


Weekend Fever

by CaptainTarthister



Series: Love Is A Hurricane [5]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Absofuckinglutely not, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fever, Handcuffs, Kinky, Light Angst, Married Couple, Married Sex, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Rimming, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Smut, Smutathon, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Vibrators, Woman on Top, not a drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-02 11:55:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15796017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainTarthister/pseuds/CaptainTarthister
Summary: Work and family make intimacy difficult for Jaime and Brienne but they do try, and their efforts paid off! Three days in a secluded cabin with just each other, bare minimum amount of clothes, wine, and sex toys.What could go wrong?For starters--ah--aH-AH-HACHOO!





	1. Kisses First

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SeleneU](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeleneU/gifts).



 

“Jaime. . .”

“Hmm. Yes, my love?”

There was no joy in pulling away from her husband’s glorious kisses but something nagged at Brienne. Her lips, swollen and tingling from kisses, gleamed red on her pink face. She blinked up at the ceiling, feeling rather than seeing Jaime move his kisses to her throat. _How could she think when he was kissing her?_ It was fucking impossible. But hardly a problem that gnawed. She did try to make sense of muddled thoughts, for whatever it was she had to say, it must be important enough to remain in her mind, even if it was just a faint specter right now.

But Jaime’s lips traveled back up to her freckled throat, then back to her lips. Her growl was rough, animalistic, as once again she gave herself up to his kisses, the delicious movements of his fingers in her cunt. One of her legs, dangling over the passenger window, curled back in the car at the wet and teasing sensation of his fingers sliding back and forth inside her.

Focus and any basic mental process was a struggle in Jaime’s arms, more so when covered in kisses and his fingers weaving hot, _incredible_ magic in her cunt. The man was in construction so of course he had _very talented_ hands. As they kissed, her eyes opened, then widened once she remembered what must be said.

It was there. The letters. Forming words. Jumbled. But forming words. Now the first word of the sentence—

Jaime’s lips left her to capture her nipple. With one lash of his tongue, he obliterated her thoughts. Then his thumb began to play with her clit. She kicked her legs in wanton delight.

 _Probably not that important._ Tremors took hold of her body and she chuckled breathlessly, raising herself a little from the car door she was pressed against to push her nipple deeper in his mouth.

He sucked hard in approval, making her wail and see white for a moment. As she panted, his fingers resumed fucking her cunt _oh so deliciously._

Looking past his golden hair, she saw her feet pressed hard on the passenger door, toes curled. Her short hung out of the window. Something fluttered out of the corner of her eye. Turning her head slightly, she saw a white blouse fluttering from the windshield before the wind sent it to the trees.

 _Her_ white blouse.

Jaime tugged her other nipple harshly and she squeaked. She looked at her feet again.

 _Her_ shorts.

She glanced up, towards the side. There. On the rearview mirror. _Her panties._

Her face and body were a spectrum of pinks and reds, laughter bubbling out of her. _Gods._ From the force of Jaime’s kisses on her nipple, even the press of silk would be like igniting a fire. His fingers in her cunt already promised she was going to walk a little weird for a couple of days.

_It was all so fucking good._

Then she remembered.

 “Jaime, if we don’t stop now we’re going to fuck the entire three days in the car!” She exclaimed, trying to pull him off her nipple. Emerald eyes gleaming with amusement looked at her. She squirmed, trying to close her legs but he firmed his hold on her cunt with a smirk.

“Would that be so bad,” he teased, biting her playfully on the lip before pulling his fingers out. He winked at her blush when he sucked on his glistening fingers. “Mmm. You taste like you want us to hop in the backseat and fuck.”

“Right,” she retorted. She couldn’t move, entranced by the bliss on his face as he licked and sucked her flavor from his fingers. He winked. Spell broken, she laughed and straightened up, finally bringing her legs together.

She hauled herself back on the passenger seat, grabbing her shorts from the window. “Will you get my blouse before it leaves us for some shirt party?” As she spoke, she grabbed her panties and stared at it incredulously. It was torn cleanly in half.

Jaime was grinning as she shook her head at him, dangling her useless panties from her finger.

“Sorry. But I was very excited about having three whole days alone,” he explained, slipping out of the car.

“Well, me too, but you don’t see me destroying your clothes,” she retorted. Her words would have some sting if she didn’t sound so husky. Also if she wasn’t practically drooling at him in his gray muscle tee and worn, faded jeans.

Brienne went out, finding her ankle booties scattered on the leaf-strewn ground. Hugging herself to protect what little modesty she could still grasp, she watched him pick up her blouse and shake it clean. Her smile was demure but her eyes dark sapphire orbs of lust as he handed it to her. His jeans were not slim-fitting at all but there was no mistaking the bulge straining from them. Her nipples, still wet and tight from his kisses, hardened into a sweet ache as she stared at his cock then back to his face. The longing was clear in her eyes.

“You can rip this if you want,” he offered, pulling at the collar of his shirt. “Or undress me with your teeth then lick me from head to toe.”

“Oh, believe me, I intend to exact revenge later,” she declared before turning away to put on the blouse. As she tried to find the buttons to slip through the holes, he stepped right behind her, palming her cunt possessively. Maybe she shouldn’t have put the shorts back on.

There it was. The leap in the heart, her skin breaking out in goosebumps. Just one of the many signs of how much she loved being touched by Jaime this way. She couldn’t get mad at him for popping off nearly all buttons from her blouse except for one. How many wives received naughty, sexy texts throughout the day? How many women were greeted at the door by a man who genuinely could not stand not being able to touch her for another second?

Perhaps in the first year of marriage. Two years? They have been together for almost sixteen years, counting the first time they fucked in her humble apartment before getting to know each other’s names first.

From the very beginning of their relationship, this was Jaime’s way. A hand on her cunt. There were days when this was the only intimacy they could have, thus why this weekend was very important to them. She hoped his cock would fuck her mouth for a few hours too. She missed _weekends_ of having nothing but his cock.

 “Gosh, it’s quite chilly today, isn’t it?” She asked, pulling the blouse close and trying its tails into a knot over her belly button. She shivered as he nipped her gently on the ear.

“That’s just you thrilled at my kisses,” he teased, hugging her from behind and raking his teeth on her goosebump-riddled nape. “I remember you like them.”

“Hmm. Do I?” She teased back, turning so she could hug him back and look in his eyes. “Is this really happening?”

“I know right?” He agreed, picking her up from the ground and twirling. She shrieked with laughter and held on tightly as the trees, the cabin and the sky became a blurred miasma of vibrant golds and somber greens and browns, pale blues. He stopped, both of them panting and smiling blearily at each other.

“Three whole fucking days _alone_ , Brienne.” He shook her, practically giddy himself. “Repeat after me.”

She nodded, her eyes wide. “Three whole fucking days.”

“Louder.”

She skipped and clapped. “Three whole fucking days.”

“The ground should shake, babe.”

 _“Three whole fucking days alone!”_ She shouted, throwing her fist in the air. Something squawked in the distance followed by the panicked flutter of wings. Laughing again, they clutched at each other to keep upright.

“No quickies,” she murmured against his neck, sniffing his crisp, soapy scent and musky aftershave. “No kids screaming for breakfast.”

“ _Fuck, yes._ No kids suddenly walking in while I’m tasting you.” He whispered back. She giggled, remembering. Thank goodness for the blanket or they’d never be able to look at their kids in the eye again. “No kids to help with homework.”

“No kids squabbling,” she said.

“No violent reactions for having brussels sprouts for dinner.” He declared. “No kid having a bad dream.” She nodded, remembering their youngest, Alyse. Jaime liked to sleep in the nude, and sometimes, she did too. The problem was on nights she ditched the nightie, that was when their darling Alyse had nightmares and crept between them. Brienne can easily slip on a nightgown but boxers for Jaime required some serious maneuvering.

“Hey, we do love our kids to pieces, right?” She said playfully, pulling away a little to look in his eyes again. He told her often she had the most beautiful eyes, but she believed different. His clear, emerald gaze always knocked her breath away.

“Every whiny, impossible piece,” he assured her.

“We do have the best kids.”

“Without a doubt.”

Making the time to fuck while working full-time and raising children was difficult. They made it a point to always go away for their anniversary, just the two of them. But they missed taking trips for no other reason than to be together. Alone.

Their children were grown—Aeron was now thirteen, Maelyn eight and Alyse six. Jaime and Brienne were thankful their kids hardly gave them trouble. There were the usual ones—Maelyn getting into a fight, Aeron needing a little help in Science, Alyse horrifying the class with a graphic description of a surgery during Show and Tell. Still, the Lannister children were respectful, smart, confident. And if any of them did do something contrary to what good behavior was supposed to be, there was often a good reason behind it. When Maelyn punched a classmate, it was because he was making fun of a girl’s Dornish accent, for example.

Children would always be a handful. Jaime and Brienne loved being with them, and they were growing up and needed their parents more each day. There was also increasing work commitments. It was a constant push-and-pull. When they remarried, they promised to always make time for each other. In the past year, it became close to impossible.

Brienne was made director of Growing Strong Wellness Center. On top of patients, she had to ensure that the practice made money. Jaime’s construction company got several government contracts. Each felt the insistent pull of work, but it was unthinkable for either to quit. Even if one of them were to offer, it was going to face steely resistance from the other.

So, they started planning. Plotted family vacations on long weekend holidays but also stole one whole day or two to be alone together.

A few years ago, they bought a cabin, renovated it to their specifications and had Jaime’s construction company do them. It retained its rustic, rugged appeal outside. Inside was modern comfort and luxury.

They kissed again before heading to the trunk for their suitcases and groceries. Standing by the open trunk, Brienne looked around. Being surrounded by nature was the best jolt to the ragged, city-stressed soul. She took a deep whiff of the cool, fresh air.

And promptly sneezed. Loudly.

Through the tent of her hands, she peered at Jaime, who was trying not to laugh.

“Sounds like you almost blew your nose off,” he said, picking up a bag. “But know that I still love you. By the way,” he added casually, “how do you feel about toys?”

“Toys? Like actual toys not tablets?” She asked, trying to find a tissue in her pocket to wipe the sticky snot she could feel dangling from a nostril. Unable to find any, she faced the prospect of doing the gross thing of wiping with her shirt when he pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed her nose.

“Hmm. Real adult toys, babe,” he said, wiping her nose. He frowned at it then chuckled. “There. No more bat in the cave. So, what do you think? Adult toys.”

Her eyes widened. “L-like what?”

He winked, pocketed the handkerchief and held up his bag. “Oh, that’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

 

*****  
_Lube. Handcuffs. Vibrator. Nipple clamps._

Jaime was whistling like the happiest boy on Christmas morning as he inspected the toys in his bag. Some of them were standard, fucking necessities, like the lube and vibrator. But he couldn’t pass up the blue, fur-lined handcuffs in the store, nor the nipple clamps with faux sapphire gemstones.

The last time they fucked was two days ago. Hardly a long time but it was compared to the years when he fucked her almost daily—and as much as four times a day. Brienne was not a virgin when they met but her cunt was the tightest he had fucked. Only an idiot would not want to be inside the hot, wet clutch of her.

A frown darkened his chiseled, sculpted looks upon remembering how close he came to losing that _gift_. While they were divorced, Brienne had dated a hockey player. She swore they never fucked, and he believed her. He was glad they didn’t, not just because he would always have a prior claim to her but once you’ve been inside Brienne, you _never_ wanted to leave.

Fucking Brienne was still as potent and white-hot as the first time—and more.

Sure, she was plain-faced, taller than most men, her curves slight rather than sensual. But her stunning sapphire eyes belonged only on her broad, freckled face. He did not wish her to be a couple of inches shorter. He liked that she was firm rather soft with her body. Some men liked to sink into curves. He preferred strength, and to be held.

“. . . sweetheart, pizza is not exactly nutritious for dinner,” The natural, deep husk of Brienne’s voice was a velvet caress to his ear as she approached the master suite. He hurriedly pushed the bag in the nightstand drawer. “I thought you love your grandfather’s roast chicken?”

The door opened fully, and she mouthed, “Alyse,” to Jaime as she entered. He sat down on the upholstered bench at the foot of the bed, beckoning her to join him. She sat down, crossing her leg over her knee, leaning on him as she continued speaking to their daughter.

“Begging Tywin for pizza,” she whispered, covering the mouthpiece with a hand quickly. As Jaime rubbed her back, she continued, “Guess what Daddy and I are having for dinner.”

Jaime smirked and pulled one side of her blouse down, rubbing his lips on her freckled shoulder before biting playfully. She trembled, trying hard not to giggle. “All we’re having are wine and cheese. I know. Apparently, that’s what adults eat, sweetheart. Oh, the cheese? The ones with mold. Yeah. I remember you don’t like those. Why are we having it?”

“Liar,” he whispered in her ear, kissing her as he felt her cheek grow warmer.

“I’m not too crazy about it. I’d love to have some of your grandfather’s roast chicken. But see, Daddy prepared the meal and he likes it. I like it too but not as much as he does. Plus, he made the effort to get the best. Just like Daddy, your grandfather works pretty hard when he cooks for you. He wants you to have the best, nutritious food.”

“Let me talk to her,” Jaime said holding out his hand. She handed the phone and parked her chin on his shoulder. He tried not to groan when she started undoing his belt. “Sweetheart? Hi. It’s Daddy.”

“Grandpa said no pizza,” Alyse said grumpily.

He tried not to laugh. All their children resembled him, Alyse the closest of all. But her sapphire eyes gleamed just like her mother’s when she was up to something. She also had a way of scrunching up her face  that she was an exact miniature replica of Brienne.

“Yeah, I know. Pizza’s great right?’ He remarked, caressing Brienne’s knee. His hand slipped between her pale thighs as he stroked her some more.

“It’s my favorite, Daddy.”

“I didn’t forget that, sweetheart. But pizza. . .I don’t know. Against your grandfather’s roast chicken, I’d go for pizza. You know why?”

Alyse sighed. “Why?”

“Because grandpa made it. And when he makes something, I know he gives only the best. How did you think I grew up to be tall? Grandpa’s cooking, sweetheart.”

“Mommy is taller, Daddy. I want to be that tall.”

“You will be. And more. But pizza’s not the only way. Listen. When Mommy and I get back, we’re all going out for pizza. I promise you get to choose the toppings and we will all love it. But for now, enjoy the roast chicken. We know you love it. And doesn’t Grandpa serve it with vegetables?”

“Yeah. . .”

Brienne, listening to the conversation, whispered, “She’s soo cute.”

“I know,” Jaime whispered back. “Alyse, the chicken and vegetables will have you shooting up to the sky faster than you can think. Before you know it, Mommy and I will be looking up at you.”

“Oh. I want to be that tall. Okay, Daddy. I’ll eat it.”

“I love you. Hold on, Mommy wants to say I love you too.”

“Mommy!” He heard Alyse exclaime as Brienne took the phone from him.

“Sweetheart,” Brienne cooed. Jaime returned to caressing her back under her shirt, loving the smooth expanse of her skin and feeling her getting warmer. He listened to her say she loved their daughter, that she missed her very much.

With her face softening, her eyes lighting up and pink spreading across her cheeks, it was hard to not fall in love with her all over again. _I can’t believe I once left her._

The call over, he tossed the phone to the other end of the bench. Brienne turned to him, licking her lips before worrying the plump, bottom end with her big teeth. “So, what happens now?”

“Hmm. I was hoping for some wine and cheese but you don’t seem crazy for it,” he teased, taking a lock of her pale, straw-colored hair and twirling it around his finger.

“Oh, I do,” she reassured him. “But I thought to fib with how much I’m missing out on great food. Kids don’t know cheeses, after all. It’s nice you offered to take her out for pizza when we return. It would mean a lot to her.”

“Figured I’d give her a lot of memories that I’m a cool dad before she starts hating me.” Jaime said, thumbing her lips. _Such full, pillowy lips_. Made for kissing, and only for him. _Then those eyes. Astonishing._

“Our children will never hate you,” she whispered, parting her lips as he slipped a thumb inside. She sucked his hand, slipping it in and out of her mouth suggestively before suddenly kneeling before him. With a gentle press on his knees, she urged him to part them a little.

Jaime cupped her face in his hands. _Such blue, blue eyes._

“I love you, Jaime.”

A soft groan left him when she flattened her palm on his cock. Fucking jeans. He wanted out. “Get this off me,” he growled. He shot to his feet while she remained on her knees, giggling. He pushed the pants down, kicking them off with more violence than expected before plunking back on the bench. They looked at his erection between them, grinning.

“We should get this off you, too,” she said, taking the hem of his t-shirt in her fists then pulling it up. He raised his arms.

“It’s unfair how good you look,” she pretended to complain, looking at his shoulders and chest appreciatively. He was proud of his body. Running five time a week then lifting weights in the garage—not required of him as a husband but one he did for himself and Brienne. It took serious stamina to fuck Brienne. If not for weights and bench presses, he wouldn’t be able to lift her in his arms and climb the stairs to their bedroom back home.

They moved closer to each other for a kiss when she suddenly sneezed.

Right on his face.

****  
_Seven bloody hells._

By the afternoon, Brienne’s nose sat like a fat, overripe tomato on her face. She didn’t have to get up from the bed to see how awful she looked. She could see her red, flushed face all the way from the mirror to the bed.

It should have broken the mood, getting a huge amount of snot on the face like that. While she could only look in horror and embarrassment, Jaime wrinkled his nose, tried to shake it off simply my swiveling his head in half-turns. Then he burst out laughing, sweeping his hands across his face and excusing himself to go to the bathroom.

_She wanted to die._

But her husband was a fucking trooper. Nothing will stop him from getting what he wanted. While she sat mortified on the bench, he went to her, face damp and cool from the wash. He kissed her first on the lips. Then on the cheek. The nose, rubbed his own nose against it. It didn’t take long for them to pick up where they left off, changing positions on the bench so she was back on her knees between his legs.

She took his cock. Wrapped her mouth eagerly around the perfectly round, bulbous head. He pushed her hair back then seized it around her nape, thrusting his hips against her as his cock slid in and out of her mouth. His eyes were closed, he was gasping, her name falling out in ragged whispers. She pressed her face on the curls around his cock.

And sneezed. Again. And again.

She hugged her knees glumly. Jaime had gone to the car to get her medical bag. She had a thermometer there, as well as other emergency tools and equipment. She doubted if there was decongestant in it.

Why was this happening?

She wanted to cry.

For months they had been waiting for this. Slashing days from the calendar with a pen, getting giddy, fantasizing about nights of fucking by the fireplace, being taken on fours in the kitchen, having his cock in her mouth in the porch overlooking the lake. A weekend of carnal debauchery.

She loved her children. She was thankful for the family they made. But sometimes. . .

Yeah. Sometimes, she wished they were newly-weds again. Starting out in their careers. Fucking daily, as much as four times a day.

But she would remember that the sex slowly dwindled, especially when childbirth and being a medical resident altogether. Jaime’s company was taking off too. The more they succeeded, the less they saw each other. Jaime would sleep on the couch because he was too exhausted to make it upstairs. She slept on the bunk bed in the hospital so she would be there on her next shift. Somehow, she had a baby and they raised it. By then they had grown apart.

She still worried about it. Fucking was not the only way they demonstrated love but it was their favorite. Fucking was a union of their souls. She’d never had anyone like Jaime who made her feel so good, who knew just what made her tick.

Add that he was her number one cheerleader. Helped her study for the board. Fed her when she was too busy to think of food. When they had Aeron he fed the baby at night so she could rest. When her consultation ran over, he gamely picked up the children from school. 

He was her rock. The world was right.

She leaped up from the bed and quickly regretted it, hand flying to her head as the world tilted sharply before her eyes. Damn. She probably had the flu. _Lovely. Just fucking lovely!_

She grabbed tissues from the nightstand and blew her nose. Loudly.

Her nose wouldn’t stop _pouring._

She let out a sob.

Why did she get sick now? It was so fucking unfair. The one time in months she could have Jaime all to herself. She loved their children very much but she missed just being with Jaime. Being able to stay in bed long after waking up to watch him sleep, listen to him snore. Drooling over him as he prepared the filet mignon without having one of the children asking if she was alright. The intimate, publicly inappropriate touches—his hand slipping to her cunt when he greeted her, her hand cupping his cock through pants. Lingering over wine. Laughing uproariously at their favorite medieval stoner comedy. Debating. Teasing each other. Just talking. Just cuddling.

As she emptied her nose in the tissue, she took he crumpled, sticky balls and tossed them in the trash bin in the bathroom. Gods. She really was fucking sick. But it wasn’t like she was an invalid. She could kiss. _She could fuck._

Stalking back to the bed, she noticed that Jaime’s nightstand wasn’t closed properly. She walked over there, intending to just push the drawer when an inner voice told her to take a peek.

She pulled her hand back, unsure.

Before she could think again, her hand flew out and grabbed the drawer.

Her swollen, red-rimmed sapphire eyes lit up.

_Jackpot._

 

******  
Jaime thought to make Brienne herbal tea before bringing her the medical bag. Looping its leather handles around his wrist, he balanced it as he held a full, heavy cup of tea with his other hand.

“Babe, I’ve come bearing gifts---” he started saying as he pushed open the door.

And dropped the bag. He slammed the mug hurriedly on a dresser. Emerald eyes could only stare at the _awesome_ view that greeted him.

 _No one_ would be capable of saying anything else if they saw what was before him.

On the bed, Brienne moved, sensuously curling up a long, naked leg as she turned to him. The handcuffs restraining her wrists to the headboard clattered as soft, half-closed sapphire eyes stared at him.

_Seven bloody hells._

His eyes traveled from the languid expression on her flushed face, to her body covered in fever-pink flush and goosebumps. Nipples peaked so tightly they were dark red buttons on her pale flesh. The defined muscles of her abs tightened as she suddenly thrashed, opening her legs.

That was when he heard the buzzing sound.

There, vibrating under the thick patch of dirty-blond pubic hair, was the bright blue vibrator.

His mouth watered. His jaw actually dropped. Tongue out. He could fucking _taste_ her. The wet, musky perfume of her arousal permeated the air. He sniffed deeply, feeling his cock stir in his pants. 

“Hello, lover,” she drawled, sniffing loudly, before suddenly letting out a long, throaty, _filthy_ moan as a sharp tremor suddenly seized her body.

Her spine arched, arms yanking at her bound wrists as she screamed her orgasm.


	2. Ready or (S)not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirty talk and sexy times. Or what sexy times Jaime and Brienne can manage!

The scream reached only the halfway peak before her dry, parched throat tightened, cutting off the air from her lungs. Startled, another hard, loud sneeze left her, splashing droplets on her breasts, her knees. Her legs, locked close through her release, suddenly fell slack to the sides.

She sniffed, once again humiliated. She didn’t dare glance at Jaime. She didn’t want to see his erection deflate.

As she tried to will herself to die, she sniffed. Her eyes were watery from a mixture of tears of mortification and her sinuses, her fucking nose, despite the threat of a lung-expelling sneeze, still felt jammed with sticky cotton and dripping. Cold sweat covered her body. She was still shivering despite the sun spilling all its light in the room. Between her thighs was the thick, slick cream of her come, also wetting the bed.

The vibrator continued to buzz in her cunt, promising to send her to another hot orgasm in a minute.

“Brienne,” Jaime’s whisper broke her heart. She tried to curl up and hide but her arms were bound. Sobbing in frustration, she tried hiding her face in the pillow.

The hand on her cheek wouldn’t let her. Turning her to face him, she saw a man wearing an expression hung between concern and desire. A drop of her gaze and there was still the straining column of flesh in his jeans.

Her heart leaped.

“Let’s get you out of here.” He said gently, finding the key by the lamp and unlocking the handcuffs.

“But—but—” she tried to protest. But she was quickly free. She sat up, once again regretting the sudden movement as the world tilted before her eyes. Immediately, his hands were on her shoulders.

“Brienne,” Jaime murmured, sitting down. He pulled her to his chest and she gratefully dropped her head on it. She hugged her legs to her chest, remembered the vibrator in her cunt. Shuddering, she pulled out the device, its gleaming surface winking in the sun. Jaime swept a blanket around her as she huddled against him. His warmth was heaven.

Despite feeling like shit, she undid his jeans and pushed her hand inside. She smiled as he chuckled, the sound ruffling her hair.

“Please, please. I really want you,” she whispered, raising her eyes at him.

_I can see him so clearly._

“Babe, you’re not well. You can barely speak above a whisper,” he said, lining her forehead with kisses as he hugged her tighter.

She sighed, feeling herself about to cry again. “But—but—you saw, right? What I did?”

They had never used toys before—except for smearing chocolate on each other in strategic places. She had been shocked by the array of toys—nipple clamps, handcuffs, vibrator, and the super-intense lube that made her cunt wet and had her hand going to her ass as if to comfort it. But as quickly as her shock came, so did it flee, replaced by excitement. Despite sneezing, blowing into a tissue, she slipped the vibrator in her cunt and handcuffed herself.

Her body was still humming from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She felt a little relaxed, she could sleep for a century. But not without fucking Jaime first. At least five times. Or more.

Despite the snot that was beginning to drip from her nose again, he kissed her firmly on her chapped, very warm lips. “There’s no way I will forget that,” he said huskily.

“So let’s fuck. I can do it. I only have a little cold,” she insisted, tossing the blanket away and immediately squawking at the chill that hit her skin. He sighed and rubbed her arm and back with one hand as he tried putting the blanket back on her. “I can do it, Jaime. I know I can. You can fuck me. However you want.” Each declaration was followed by a vigorous nod. Until she got dizzy.

He smiled, wrapping her once again in a blanket and hauling her close to his body. “Let’s wait until you’re a little better. Come on, I made you some tea and got your bag.”

“But Jaime—” she tried to protest again but he had no trouble laying her down on the bed. Her blond eyebrows drew together as he pulled away. Suddenly, he surprised her by kissing her exposed feet.

“We’ll have to get thick socks on you,” he said, straightening up and seeing her smile. “Hells, Brienne, can’t you feel how warm you are? But your feet are quite cold.” He zipped up his pants, smirking at her mewl of disappointment.

“No, they’re not,” she pouted, crossing her arms as he went to get her tea. He picked up her bag from the floor.

But she obeyed him, letting him take her temperature, taking a sip of the yucky herbal tea that he said would relieve her cold some. She gave up after two sips, making a gagging face and shaking her head, eyes flaring like sapphires in the sun.

“No, no. I don’t like it,” she insisted, turning her head away when he tried to urge her to take one more sip. “I’m a doctor. Teas don’t cure. I only have a cold. I’m fine.”

Jaime sighed and put it away. He took the thermometer from under her arm and smirked. “You’re the MD here, alright, but numbers don’t lie.” He showed her the numbers on the tiny screen, laughing as she frowned.

“Just rest, come on,” he requested, leaning in to kiss her. She whimpered and grabbed him by the jaw to take him by the lips. He sighed and kissed her still. It felt like standing right on the surface of the sun.

He growled softly through their kiss, taking her in his arms. She embraced him to her, pulled him down on the bed so his hard, warm body was on top. The crush. The beat of his heart against her chest. The taste of him, slightly of coffee. The faint tang of her when he sucked his fingers. She could almost forget the throbbing at the back of her head. She couldn’t breathe but the air from his mouth went to her.  

“I can fuck,” she whispered during a momentary pause before he was kissing her again. She eagerly speared her fingers through his thick hair. _Yes. Yes._ “You can jackhammer me.”

“What?” Jaime’s mouth fell open. She smiled and kept kissing him.

“Jackhammer me,” she repeated, kissing the corners of his lips, rubbing her cheeks against his beard before taking his hand to slip under the blanket, to cup her breast. He was quick to take the small curve, thumb swiping across a hot, pink nipple. “Fuck me like you never want to stop. Fuck me _hard_.”

“Brienne, I’m not so sure about this---”

“Do I disgust you?” She asked, her heart beating fast under her breast, right where his hand was. Feeling another slide of mucus, she sniffed loudly.

“Not at all,” came his firm, quick reply. He shook his head at her exasperatedly then kissed her full on the mouth. She giggled, wrapping her leg around him. Hmm. There. His cock was going to bust a hole through his jeans and the blanket!

“I love you naked, clothed, smiling, frowning,” he murmured, kissing her around the face at every utterance, “laughing, coughing, sick, disgusting, smelly—”

“Smelly!”

“It’s a fucking aphrodisiac,” he groaned, raking his teeth across her lip. “How your cunt smells after a workout. Can’t get enough of it.”

“But smelly?” She demanded.

“More like the musk of you is so sexy when you’re sweaty it’s _insane_ ,” he groaned, ripping the rest of the blanket away from her. She giggled, helping him kick it off.

“Much better.”

“I love you when you snore, when you’re quiet, when you fall asleep reading a medical journal. . .” he continued, kissing down her body. She shivered, but it was probably from pleasure. She tried to sigh, but her nose was so clogged. She breathed through her mouth instead, moaning as his lips traveled to her breasts, took her hard, long nipples.

Her mouth fell open, gasping air into her lungs as his wet mouth closed around a nipple and sucked. Unbelievable how good this always felt. On lazy, slow mornings, he woke her up like this. Making her fall apart with his lips on her nipples alone at least twice before breakfast.

She tried to relax in this treat, wishing she could breathe normally and her nose didn’t feel crammed with tissues and who knew what else. Through watery eyes, she watched him free her nipple languidly, slowly pulling away from the swollen, wet tip before hot green eyes slid over as he took the next.

“Jackhammer me,” she said, her voice hoarse from her dry throat rather than desire.

He widened his mouth, taking an entire breath inside, his beard tickling her chest. She grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, at the back, intending to rip it.

Jaime choked. “Babe.”

“Sorry.” She muttered, tugging again. This time he pulled away, coughing. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. It was standard cotton. Worn. Easy to rip. What the hell was wrong with her hands?

He shook his head. “It’s alright,” he cleared his throat and pulled off the t-shirt.

“Pants too, please,” she requested coyly, raising her leg to stroke his cock with her toe. “Drill my mouth, Jaime.”

He grinned, shoulders shaking from restrained laughter. He started unzipping his jeans.

“What?”

“This kind of talk,” he mused, pushing the pants down, then his black boxer briefs. “I’m not sure you’re the wife I know.”

“You have your toys. I have my mouth.” Her eyes glimmered upon sighting his cock. “I looked up dirty talk online.”

“You looked up dirty talk?” He smiled at her affectionately.

“Uh-huh.” She licked her lips.

Gods. What a man. And he was her husband. She was Dr. Lannister. Mrs. Jaime Lannister. The one woman born with exclusive privileges to his heart and cock. Who was still as mad about him as the first day he walked in her apartment to install shelves, a god in denim and a bulging, weathered tool belt.

She carefully sat up now, eyes darting up and down Jaime’s face, his chest, his cock. In this light, he looked more golden, almost unearthly as the light emphasized his chiseled, elegant looks, his hair. He stood still as she got to her knees, covering his muscular, hair chest with wet, lingering kisses.

He breathed sharply. _“Brienne.”_

“Hush,” she gasped, sniffing loudly. Gods. _Please don’t let her sneeze now._

 She rubbed her nose against his chest hair, opening her mouth to take the firm button of his nipple. She sucked and whimpered, her sounds blending with his rough groans as he shook. As she moved toward the other nipple, her hands coasted down his abs, feeling the hard definition of muscles, the dip of his belly button. As she sucked his other nipple and the mild salt of his skin flooded her mouth, she wrapped her hands around his cock.

_“Brienne.”_

He grabbed her head and kissed her hard on the mouth, driving her to squeeze his cock just as he liked it. He gasped as she stroked him, so hard and warm, a part of Jaime yet unlike the rest of him. The smoother skin. The sensation of holding something akin to steel. As he sucked her tongue, she circled her thumb on the slit on the cockhead, rubbing the wet dot from it on his entire length.

“I love you so much,” she gasped against his tongue as they continued their oral sparring. As she continued rubbing him, her other played with his warm, heavy balls.

“I love you, Brienne,” he said, putting a stop to their kiss by grabbing her by the hair. “And that’s why I would like you to get better before we fuck. You know I want to fuck you.” They glanced between them to see her hands wrapped firmly around his cock and balls. He grunted and coughed. “I want to fuck you so much. I want nothing else,” he sounded agonized. “But I need for you to rest first.”

“But I can fuck!” She protested, refusing to yield her grip of him. “You know I’m still wet!”

“I can smell you,” he sounded more pained. “But—”

“I told you to drill my mouth, right?’ She said. Once she let him get his way, it would mean the rest of their vacation under the blankets and futilely fighting off this fucking cold. “Drill my mouth, Jaime.”

“Brienne---”

“Please, please, please,” she begged, reluctantly letting go of his cock to pull him down for a kiss. He sighed, as if in resignation, and kissed her back. They kissed for a few seconds before she suddenly pulled away and dived for his cock.

“Brienne— _seven hells_. The gods did your mouth right,” he groaned as she energetically sucked him. “Damn. Yes. Yes. _Fucking yeah._ ”

She would smile smugly if her mouth wasn’t stuffed. The salty flavor of him was more intense here, and the smell. Man and Jaime. Musk and Jaime. Over and over her folded lips slid back and forth on his cock, feeling him pulse harder, urge her to open wider. Her heart pounded wildly, loudly, and she imagined herself a beating, pulsating mass, living on loving and fucking Jaime rather than air.

She shoved her face down the full length of his cock, her nose hitting the base.

 _Oof._ She pulled back a little, trying to breathe.

 _“Thank you for your mouth,”_ Jaime rasped, smoothing her hair from her face. “Give me those sapphires, Brienne. Fuck. I wanna come looking in your eyes. _Please_. Gods. _Brienne._ ”

He was hot steel in her mouth, and getting harder. She knew she should devour him. She would. She had. But now, every cell in her body, all her instincts were yelling some other thing.

_Not again---_

Jaime’s cock popped out of her mouth just before she sneezed.

 

*****  
He shouldn’t be so fucking hard.

He should not be so fucking turned on.

But this was Brienne. So her nose was bigger, a whole lot redder, and her eyes were bright from tears due to her cold.  So what? He couldn’t resist her. Light of his life. The stillpoint of his world. She had the sexiest mouth, and with it the talent to suck him and knock him out from the force. Small, bouncy breasts. Long, long, legs. Freckles. Her cunt. Gods. Wet. So fucking wet.

He shouldn’t be so fucking horny because she was clearly sick. But her tenacity in convincing him she could fuck, that they would fuck, was not helping kill his erection. He just got harder and harder.

Still, he wanted to do the right thing.

“Brienne,” he said as she pushed him down the foot of the bed and crawled to the other end. He swallowed looking at the pink cleft of her ass, the faint blond curls under it, the gleam from between her thighs. “Brienne,” he said, sounding more firmly. “I don’t know about this. At least take decongestant. I found some in your bag—”

“No. I’m not sick,” she insisted, sniffing. She plunked heavily on the bed, facing him, her feet pointed toward him. Brushing her hand across her nose, she muttered, “I can fuck. Fuck me. Pound into me, Jaime.”

How can he fight that? From her lips, in that voice? From Brienne? Even with snot, _how?_

But he tried again.

“Why don’t you take decongestant first and then we fuck?”

“How about we fuck and then I take it?” She winked and licked her chapped lips. His cock thrust harder in the air. She sniffed again, looking at his erection. “Your cock seems to agree.”

 _Fuck._ No wonder she was the doctor and cut up people while he looked at drawings of buildings.

She opened her legs, giving him a delicious view of her soaked, dirty-blond curls and glistening, pink slit. He bent his legs and she hugged them to her breasts, looping her raised leg around him. The heels of her feet pressed on the firm cheeks of his ass.

He arched, grunting. Fuck. Her smooth, slightly calloused feet on his ass. How did they feel so good?

He took his cock and aimed it to her cunt, sinking tentatively in her at first, like this was the first time and he didn’t want her hurt. Brienne could be so fragile yet also breathtakingly strong. His favorite would always be the first time they fucked, though fucking got better each and every time.

 _“Jaime,”_ She whispered dreamily, hugging him tighter.

Shit. The bliss of being inside her. It was like sinking into the most heavenly, wet silk. Snug, warm, welcoming. Squeezing. In and out he moved, her cunt muscles tightening around him with each glide back inside her, as if to teasingly admonish him for leaving. He smiled, losing himself in the pleasure of being in Brienne’s cunt. Wet. Dripping. _Just for him._

“Pound me,” she begged, causing him to jerk and groan. “Grind into me hard.”

“Gladly,” he grunted, already despairing for the rougher pace they so loved. As his thrusts sped up, he licked his middle finger, wetting it until it gleamed. He looked at her half-closed eyes, her nostrils flaring as she struggled to breath, her mouth gasping air into her lungs.

He started teasing her asshole.

“Ugh. _Jaime,”_ she cried out, her eyes flying open. He pushed his finger inside the unforgiving pucker. “Yes. Yes. _So good._ ”

He smirked, fucking her asshole with the roughness his cock was giving her cunt. She squirmed, moaning, her arms around his legs tightening. “Jaime, Jaime, Jaime,” was a throaty chant from her lips.

He wanted to make her come first but he had been so hard and prolonging was becoming more hellish than seven hells together. “I’m close,” he gasped, pounding into her, just leaving his finger inside her ass. She coughed, sniffed, and put her head on the pillow.

“Jaime.” She whispered. “Jaime.”

“Brienne---” he closed his eyes.

“I can’t breathe.”

“What?”

As soon as he spoke, he grunted, jerking roughly into her as his cock poured a load of semen in her cunt. He would rather finish inside her but she _couldn’t fucking breathe_. Panicking, he pulled out of her, fisting himself as he spilled the rest on her thighs, her legs. She flopped on her back during his release, gasping as he accidentally aimed his cock at her stomach and plopped the last of his deposit there.

She sighed and closed her eyes.

“Damn it!” Jaime swore. He yanked the blanket from under her. He flung it on her shivering body, making sure she was tucked in tight. Carefully, he elevated her head, slipping an extra pillow under the first.

Brienne sniffed loudly. “Air. Oh, thank you, Jaime.”

“Next time you’re sick, you’re taking the medicines and I don’t care if you want to fuck and I want to fuck. Your health comes first,” he scolded her.

He continued tucking the blanket around her, like a burrito. She gasped she couldn’t breathe so he loosened it. Done, he stepped back and saw her crestfallen expression.

“Oh, Brienne. Come on. You know you should’ve done as I asked.” He kissed her on the lips.

“I know,” she said in small, clearer voice.

“Now will you take medicine?”

She nodded meekly.

He kissed her again and stormed back to her bag. She had some over the counter medicines. He found the decongestant, some packets of lozenges, among others. He got water from the kitchen and took it to the bedroom. He didn’t leave the bed until she popped the tablet in her mouth.

“Stay with me,” she complained when he turned to look in her suitcase. She hadn’t unpacked yet.

“We need to get you in warm clothes,” he told her. “Don’t worry. I’ll hold you, Brienne.”

Delight made her blush. “Yay.”

He laughed and looked in her bag. Eyebrow raised, he pulled out its contents and held them up to her. She hid half of her burning face under the blanket.

“Negligees and g-strings, babe? That’s all you have in here?”

“This was supposed to be a fucking weekend,” she muttered, her forehead pink. “Do you have pajamas?”

He put them back in the bag. “I didn’t bring any. This is a fucking weekend, like you said. Why bring  them?”

She giggled but started coughing. “There’s more blankets in the hall closet,” she wheezed out.

He hurriedly grabbed the thickest, softest blanket, shook it straight and went back to her. She was sitting up in bed, blowing her nose again and looking pissed but very sweet. At least, to him.

“I’m so sorry about this,” she said as he draped the blanket around her.

“Why are you apologizing?” he asked, genuinely confused. “It’s not your fault.”

“But we’re not fucking.”

He kissed her sweaty forehead. “We’re together. Alone.”

“Oh.” She smiled. “Yeah. Just us.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I saw vapor rub in your bag. You need to rest, babe and it might help you breathe better, along with the decongestant.”

“Alright.” She murmured, lying back in bed. He smiled at her quick acquiescence. She pulled the blankets away.

He rolled his eyes. “What the fuck, Brienne? You’re making this worse.”

“How can you put vapor rub on me with the blanket?”

As she spoke, the last of it fell to her waist.

He was a guy with a thing for small breasts. _His wife’s small breasts with the fat, long nipples._ His eyes zoomed in on the mounds, counting the freckles on her pale skin with his eyes. He swallowed to clear the sudden dryness in his throat. Her nipples were still red and stiff.

“Right,” he said, turning away, hiding his rising cock from her eyes. “Vapor rub. On you.”

“Yeah,” she said. He heard her fumble for more tissue. Then she was blowing her nose.

Brienne with skin slick from vapor rub. Slippery. Cool-warm.

Now he was desperate to fuck.

 _“Hachoo!_ Fuck the gods!” Brienne snarled before burying her nose in the tissue again to blow loudly.

Really, really desperate. He couldn’t believe it. His semen was still on his thighs and he wanted to be inside her again. _Now._

Jaime hung his head and took the vapor rub.


	3. Give me Some Rubbin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime struggles with erections and vapor rub.

Jaime sat on the bed, by Brienne’s hip. She lay against the stack of pillows, blowing into a tissue yet again. There was nothing sexy about her bent and dumping the contents of her nose like that. He had to stop himself from brushing away her tousled hair, or caress the column of freckles on her arm. . . thumb the sweet, tempting pout of her nipple.

“Are you sure you don’t want to be covered up a bit?” He twisted the cap off with more concentration needed. “You were shivering just now.”

“I only feel a little cold but I shouldn’t get a lot of the vapor rub on the blanket. Not exactly perfume,” She put her arms up, tucking her hands under her head, her breast jiggling slightly as they thrust forward. She gave him a small, weak smile.

She was flat as a board when they first met but he thought it was sexy. Strength over curves—when things got tough, you wanted someone stronger at your side.

Jaime could understand the appeal of full breasts—he had been mad about Brienne’s when she was pregnant and breastfeeding. But it meant bras and she got cross wearing them—the red welts marring her beautiful skin looked painful. So he preferred her without them. He got all hot and shaky knowing that under her proper lab coat and button-down shirts or turtlenecks, she didn’t wear anything underneath. In t-shirts, particularly plain white tees, there was _no hiding_ her oft-tight pink nipples. Her half-indignant, half-passionate shrieks were the promise should he suddenly maul her on the nearest flat surface and unleash kisses on her breasts.

When she was topless, he was a goner.

Her straw-blond hair was a mess, sapphire eyes swollen and half-closed. A peek at her nostrils showed at least a couple of sticky, yellowish threads of mucous, and below them, its film. His boxers were struggling against his erection and he hoped to the Seven Brienne didn’t notice. Impossible, really, to be not turned on with how much she wanted to fuck him, even when she was as sick as a dog. He wanted to do the right thing, even if the rest of his body—and ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent of his brain didn’t.

Jaime knew he was a good-looking guy. Men half his age couldn’t hold a candle to him. But it pleased him to no end that Brienne wanted to fuck not because of duty or habit. She _wanted_ him. Graying hairs and faint crow’s feet around the eyes, the occasional stiff knee that forebode of coming age—she wanted all that. And made it clear nearly everyday of their lives.

He saw it in her sweet, big-toothed smile, felt it in her kisses, her hugs before they parted for the day. When she sent texts about how she missed him, or describing the meatball sub she had. It was in her fingers gently sliding through his hair as he told her about losing an important contract, or having to fire an inefficient foreman, sapphire eyes looking at him with worry. Even when she sometimes got annoyed because he would just leave his discarded clothes on the floor, or squeeze the toothpaste from the top, or left the toilet seat up. The adoration and longing hardly left her eyes.

And yeah, the fucking. Simply unlike anything he’d had with anyone. He liked how irresistible she found him—she was the only woman he knew who got cranky when days went by without having his cock in her mouth.

It was the feel of her and being with her that he could never get enough. Her sapphire eyes blown with passion as he drove inside her. The sweet, sticky warmth of her cunt. The taste of her breath, the tremor of her moans against his mouth. The silk of her nipples. Long, magnificent legs locked around him.

Her intelligence—gods, he never ceased to find delight in introducing her as Dr. Lannister. He was always proud to be at her side.

Is it any wonder that he couldn’t stop desiring her, even with snot sliding out of her nose again? He watched her make a face and snatch tissues from the box to blow into.

He swiped a dollop from the vapor rub pot and took quick, deep breath before rubbing the substance on her chest. She sighed, arching towards the soft, circular strokes of the pads of his fingers. She closed her eyes, once against stretching like a contented cat.

His cock was killing him. It would be wiser to look elsewhere but his eyes were riveted by her breasts, the freckles that adorned them, her sweet, candy-pink nipples. Plump and swollen, they called for the pull of his fingers. _His tongue._

“Hmm. Jaime, that feels sooo good.”

He tried not to groan from the sound of her voice. It was huskier from the cold. She could read a grocery list and he would still pop a hard-on. Right now, she sounded like a filthy porn star. _Don’t tell me to drill you, babe. Not now. Because I’ll forget how sick you are and fuck you harder than I have._

“I love your hands.” She whispered, opening her eyes and giving him a soft, heart-melting smile.

He smirked, pushing two fingers back in the pot to keep rubbing her. “Not too rough?”

It had been years since he truly worked with his hands, but he never forgot his skills with a hammer and a saw. Tough callouses still covered them.

“They’re perfect,” she murmured, opening her eyes. “My loving, hard-working husband. How can I not love your hands?”

She took one, flipping it palm up. “You built Aeron’s cradle with this. You changed diapers. You stripped the floors of our house that one summer—remember how I wanted to kill you?”

He chuckled. “Absolutely.”

“You love working with your hands. It’s one of the things that made me fall so hard for you.”

She kissed each knuckle. Then she leaned back against the pillows again, reluctantly freeing his hand. He glanced at it, feeling the warmth from her kisses still.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked.

“I could use more on the chest,” she said, inhaling deeply. “And on the throat, maybe? But not a lot.”

“You should rest after this,” he tried to coax her, sliding her an exasperated but fond smile.

She shrugged, and he shot her a chiding look. He dipped two fingers back in the pot, scooping up just enough of the substance before pulling out. She pointed where he should put more.

As his hand moved around her skin, he felt the gentle, slow expansion of her chest as she exhaled. She didn’t sound as watery as before, he supposed, but it was a while before the decongestant would take effect. She really needed rest for it to work.

Next, she arched her throat. His fingers returned to the pot, swirling inside the warm-cool viscosity before rubbing her again. The freckles on her throat were like speckles of pale brown sugar. His hand moved between her collarbones. Another sigh slipped from her.

Her eyes closed, and a few seconds later, her head lolled to the side. Jaime was relieved. Touching her was not helping his erection at all. He finished, leaving her asleep propped up against the pillows. He tucked the blankets around her again, and from his suitcase dug out a fresh pair of socks for her feet.

He went downstairs to make a fresh pot of the herbal tea. Perhaps she could be convinced to have some later. While waiting for the water to boil, he stashed the wine in the small rack on the counter, thinking that at least the next time they were here there was good, robust vintage waiting for them.

Whenever that next time could be.

He put tea bags in the pot, then poured water in it. He put it and the mug on the tray then went back upstairs. Brienne was now curled on her side, looking like she was wrapped in whipped cream. As quiet as he tried to be, there was no avoiding the creak of the floorboards under his feet, nor the brush of the steel tray on the wood of the bedside table.

Being a light sleeper, Brienne’s eyes fluttered open.

“God back to sleep,” he told her.

She shook her head. “Come to bed, please?”

 

*****  
  
She felt sleepy but could now breathe with some ease. As heavy as her body felt, she refused to spend another minute without Jaime inside her. Four months they had planned this weekend. _Four months._

She loved her children more than life. But she missed just being with her husband.

Love and passion were never their problem. It was time, commitments, and of course, their very human bodies. Private practice freed her time significantly but being a director now meant finances, operations, marketing, maintenance as well as the legal side of things were now her concerns on top of managing the other doctors and treating her own patients. It was a never-ending barrage of problems. But she liked hard work—she liked to work and loved what she did. The problem was it took her away from people she cared for the most,

She was in the middle of her residency when Aeron was born. Those years were a blur, but she never forgot the exhaustion that never left. After a shift she would stagger to his crib, half-asleep but needing to hold her baby because it physically hurt being away from him for sixteen hours. Holding him in her arms, she brought him to bed, tucking him between her and Jaime. She cried silently as Aeron suckled and Jaime slept on. She felt pulled and pushed in all directions and a massive failure.

Jaime was getting his construction business off the ground, then, and took over baby duties when she was at work. She was grateful for a partner who took on responsibilities without being told. They would try to fuck—the desire never abated no matter how tired they got—but often fell asleep in the middle of a kiss or getting naked. Soon the fucking went. Then more work commitments—Jaime with contracts, her with a fellowship to chase.

Resentment never touched their divorce. They simply stopped talking and sometimes, even forgot about each other. Aeron was all they remembered, and both refused to subject him to an environment riddled with bitterness. They just. . .didn’t know each other anymore.

She had to be away from Jaime to realize just how much she loved him, and that giving up a mistake. Re-marrying Jaime was a second chance she vowed never to take for granted yet. . .she felt she was on their way there.

This weekend was more important to her than she let on. And getting sick had completely derailed _everything._ Having him touch her with the vapor rub was as comforting as it was painful—because with every healing caress, it was another moment to remind her that they should have been fucking.

She waited with bated breath (not that she had any choice, her sinuses were getting clogged up again), a sinking feeling in her stomach telling her he would urge her to rest again.

She stared at him, hope fluttering in her heart. It felt forever since she could have him to herself, to really be with him and not worry about bills, quota, changing the oil in the car, their children. Just for three days. She wanted her mouth to swell from kisses that won’t stop. She hoped to cover him in kisses. That he would fuck her, wear her out to the point she won’t be able to sit comfortably for a week. Her ass was still tingling from the intrusion of his finger.

She missed those little aches.

Gods, she thought, staring hungrily at his body. She loved that he worked hard to keep himself trim and strong, knowing he did it so he could fuck as her as hard and as much as he wanted without tiring out too early. Her breathing resumed, in shallow, soft gasps, as she discovered the undeniable strain of his erection in the boxers.

 “Brienne,” he suddenly spoke, “I get in there with you and you won’t be closing your legs for the night.”

Shocked, it took a moment to realize he wasn’t kidding.

She flung the blanket away and spread her legs wide open.

He was on her at the next breath, hands pushing her legs further apart, shoulders widening their distance as he bent to her cunt. She gasped, slamming back against the pillows as his tongue shoved in her cunt and _fucked_ her.

“Jaime,” she gasped, hands flying to her face, disbelieving this was happening. Her heart raced with the violence of a stampede as his tongue sped up, thrusting, pushing, sliding up and down to tease her clit before tucking back inside her folds. She whined, cried out, feeling her fever-warm body turn hotter with each slurp from her cunt.

She was squealing, straining even more the burn and irritation in her throat. She was fortunate her husband was generous in more way than one but this—Jaime’s center of existence seemed to be her. That fucking her with his tongue was what he was born to do, and he was going to pass with flying colors.

She fisted the blankets under her. As she did, a memory sprang in her mind—their first date. Or rather, what happened after their first date. They detoured to the park, giggling and whispering to themselves in the dark. It didn’t take long for them to start kissing, and for her to end up on her back on the grass and his head between her legs.

The rustling sheets under their bodies was almost like the rustle of the grass under her buttocks as she thrust against his tongue, stars mirrored in her eyes as she gave herself up to one hot, carnal kiss after the next. She was doing it again now, surrendering to the power of his kisses. He devoured her cunt as if it was the juiciest feast, growling loudly and slurping unabashedly.

“Jaime,” she wailed, feeling her cunt swell then spill.

“Damn it, you’re so fucking wet, babe. Soaked.” Two firm fingers pushed inside her suddenly, making her stiffen and gasp. Her flesh squeaked at every pass of the fingers. “You hear that, Brienne? Fuck. So fucking unreal how _wet_ you are.”

She shrieked when his lips tugged at her clit and sucked savagely, shocking her into orgasm. He didn’t relent through the storm. Her screams rang through the cabin. She was going to be mute before the end of this trip _and she didn’t care._

No, she was beyond caring. Jaime suckling her clit was her world.

Her head was swimming, and her throat was raw as she hit her crash. As she tried to breathe, Jaime came at her, pulling her up to press a tissue on her nose. She would laugh but had to blow her nose.

“Again,” he whispered. He was panting too, and his lips and beard even the tip of his nose were slick with her. Her eyes warmed at the darker sheen of his hair from sweat. “Make it a big, wet one.”

A gurgling that was supposed to be a laugh preceded the big, hooting noise she made as she gave it her all in the tissue. Satisfied, he put it away and kissed her. “Can you breathe okay, babe?”

Her nose was no longer as stuffed, but she still had a ways to go. The vapor rub was helping open her air passage. “Yeah,” she assured him. “A little.”

“You’re telling the truth?”

“When have I ever lied to you?”

He cocked an eyebrow and she blushed. She bit her lip and snared his eyes with a heated gaze.

“Can I help it that I want you so much?” As she spoke, she was turning redder.

“Ah, I remember. I came here with my toys, and you with your mouth,” Jaime’s arms slipped around her waist to hold her. He kissed her on the lips, gently, sensually, startling her, but she was quick to catch on. As her tongue slid across his lower lip, he whispered, “Shall we continue?”

“Please,” she whispered, starting to lay down.

He smiled and followed her, his golden body resting half on top of her as he kissed her again. She was still shuddering from her orgasm (and she hoped, only from that). She breathed into their kiss and stole his breath to take for her own as his lips parted her open.

She giggled as his lips traveled to her throat, still cool from the vapor rub. Yet he kissed her fully, taking in her combined scents as if they were a fragrant bouquet of flowers. She stroked his back, his shoulders, tangled her fingers in his soft hair as he kissed further down her body, turning his head to take her nipple in her mouth.

She sniffed, trying to relieve the stuffiness from her nose. The menthol of the vapor rub helped some. She also picked up the soft scent of her cunt, of sweat. Aftershave.

He returned his mouth to her, pressing his chest fully onto her body so he too would be smeared with the vapor rub. She panted, kissing his mouth and discovering a slight menthol taste too. He grabbed her leg to curl it around his hip. Her kisses got wilder as he rubbed his cock against  the center seam of her cunt, dragging at her clit, getting some of her slick for himself.

She turned away from her kiss, nibbling on his firm shoulder as the grinding of their bodies grew more desperate. His cock was read to fuck her, hard and dripping with her own juices. He would be inside her in one hard thrust.

She tucked her hand between them until she could fist his cock. Jaime gasped, rearing back to slam his hands by her shoulders. Her eyes were blue-black from lust, and his own gleamed like black coals as she rubbed him firmly, eagerly. He was hot, hard silk.

“Gods, Brienne,” he groaned throatily, biting her on the lip quite harshly. Her strokes never faltered.

“You feel like you’ll be fucking me day and night,” she gasped playfully.

He gasped a laugh against her neck. Without warning he flipped her on her stomach and grabbed her hips. Before she could sniff to clear her nostrils again, he slammed inside her.

_Wow._

Jaime pounded in her cunt as if to pulverize her. Flesh smacked on flesh as he fucked her, ordering her gutturally to keep her head down. A hand on her back kept her upper body low and her hips high and ready to take his fucks. She moaned his name.

She grabbed at the blankets, the pillow, whimpering and squealing as his cock parted her cunt open, wider, with each lunge. She was shaking, overwhelmed from the sensation as Jaime slammed into spots in her cunt he had not touched before.

_Gods. She didn’t deserve anything this good._

“Jaime, Jaime, Jaime,” his name was a weak whisper, spoken mostly to herself as he panted and grunted above her. She had never felt him this hard before. He was going to fucking wreck her cunt.

_Yes._

_“Please, Jaime,”_ she begged. “Harder. More. Harder. Gods. Jaime _. Jaime_.”

Her eyes came close to popping out of her eyeballs as she came with a squeal, followed by Jaimie’s shout. She sobbed, overwhelmed by all the feelings coursing inside her right this moment. As her orgasm slowed down, so did the thrusts of Jaime’s cock. She sighed, and sniffed roughly as he placed kisses on her shoulder and nape.

They collapsed wearily on the bed. She curled up against him, slipping her leg between his. His hairy thigh was sticky, just like hers. His arms locked around her, lips moving against her cheek.

“So,” he said, sounding amused.

“So,” she murmured, curling sensuously against him.

The best thing about post-fucking were the lazy conversations. They talked about nothing and everything.

“We fucked, babe,” he declared, a look of smug satisfaction on his face.

“Finally. Really fucked.” She agreed. She sniffed. “And I don’t feel like sneezing.”

“Good,” Jaime said, fisting her hair and giving it a tug to arch her throat. As she gasped, his mouth gave her a rough, lewd kiss, followed by tongue. He bit her gently as he pulled away.  “Now you should rest.”

She sighed. “But I’m feeling so much better.”

“Damn, for a doctor you really don’t know how to look after yourself.” He slapped her playfully on the butt and she giggled. “You’re sick although that snot is oddly becoming. You should see yourself, babe.”

“Oh, I am,” she smiled. “I see myself in your eyes, Jaime.”

He chuckled. She knew it was cheesy but she felt it at that moment.

“I see myself clearly through your eyes, Brienne,” he said seriously.

“I love you, Jaime,” she whispered.

“I love you, Briennne.”

She smiled as he hugged her tighter. She wouldn’t be able to breathe in a minute. She didn’t care.

“Wait, you’re shivering again.” Jaime kissed her on the cheek before getting up to pick up the blankets from the floor. He threw it over them, giving her more than a lion’s share. She curled against him, throwing her arm around his waist. She nuzzled his chest, her toes curling at his chest damp from sweat and slick with vapor rub. He hugged her close.

As she played with his nipple, her mind veered to thoughts she often left unspoken. Jaime was braver in asking questions like these. For her all that mattered was they were together, more in love and raising children that she hoped would be decent adults.

The quiet of fucking always did this to her—assault her with things she felt were best left unspoken.

But she wondered if they wouldn’t be on this dreaded cycle if she had spoken up earlier.

“Jaime, there’s something I need to ask you.”

Her heartbeat was the wild, panicked stampede of a thousand horses. How much was it was from orgasm and the other anxiety?

“Sounds serious.”

“I don’t know. But I want you to know I’m not mad. You were well within yours rights to do as you wished when. . .we were divorced. And I promised myself I won’t ask.”

The brightness in his eyes dimmed. The divorce was still not an easy subject for him.

“What is it?” he asked cautiously.

Brienne took a deep breath and held him tighter.

“Irma.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Irma is the woman Jaime dated while he and Brienne were divorced.
> 
> *****
> 
> I promised SeleneU follow-up to the previous installments of Love Is A Hurricane. The idea has been blooming for months but when I sat down to write it, I didn't like the result. That's why I thought to look into objects that unexpectedly can become kinky. Obviously, I have zero knowledge! And this is a gift (but late, drat) so I wanted it to be really good. 
> 
> So I turned for help from catherineflowers29, who has been super-generous with her time, encouragement and input. Thank you for letting me crash your writing sessions! You have no idea how much I appreciate it.


	4. Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dreaded, long-overdue conversation leads to unleashing (or is it the return?) of the sexy inner sex beast* that is Brienne. 
> 
> Jaime shows her just how much he likes it! 
> 
> *****  
> *Coined by catherineflowers

 

The name caused Jaime to freeze. Brienne felt the tension under her cheek. He was quick to recover, even brushing his lips on her hairline. To his credit, she had surprised him so his reaction was expected. She just hoped she could be as brave as he had been when he asked her about the people she dated during their divorce. He had looked hurt but swore he understood. There was no reason to doubt him.

They never hid their dating lives from each other while divorced. But there was hurt, as expected. Jaime was braver in asking her about Harvey. Brienne had truly not been interested in the athlete. He was not Jaime. Moving on would ease the hurt eventually but he was not Jaime and her heart simply refused to consider him a possibility in any way. Jaime was the one.

Besides, Harvey had been. . .he was a nice guy and no more. As gorgeous as he was, and as kind, there was no chemistry. His kisses in particular made her yawn. He knew how but didn’t know how to read or make any moves to make her heartbeat skip or touch her as to make her shiver for more.

With Jaime. . .Brienne _knew_ she was wanted, whether in his arms or just standing across from him in a room. He kissed her as if it was the last yet also as if he had all the time in the world. He fucked her like a passionate madman, cock smashing into her cunt such that she ached, and dripped with semen for days. Fucking preceded anything between them, she remembered. This was how they truly found and belonged to each other.

She also knew of love. It was in his emerald eyes when he gazed at her over cereal, in his actions when he offered to pick up the children from school or bought special shampoo when they had lice. She knew it in his touch when she shared about a patient whose condition was terminal, hand going up and down her back and when he opened his arms for her to fall into and cry. It was in his lazy, sleepy kisses at sunlight, brushing her cunt, lipping her labia and sucking it, tongue sinking slowly in her slit still pink-red from fucking and glistening with his semen. He reminded her every time his hand pawed for her cunt after being apart for the day, raising her skirt or undoing her slacks to sink fingers in the sweet, moist warmth of her channel.

It hurt that he might have done those things to another woman. Even when she had no rights over him during that time. She shut away the hurt, focusing instead of righting the wrongs they’d made, moving forward and prizing each day she was his wife once again.

But she could feel, she was afraid, that they were back in that cycle again. Jaime was the only person for her, and would never forgive herself if she fucked up the second time.

Jaime sighed, holding her. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.”

“I’m sorry but. . .I never asked about her. I think I should have.”

She rested her chin on his chest, trying not to close her eyes from the relaxing press of his hand on her head, its gentle descent down her shoulder, on her back. With one leg flung across his thighs, she also felt his cock, wet with her and getting harder.

“Why do you ask about her?”

She leaned into his hand as it cradled her cheek, feeling the bumps of the callouses. “Did you. . .did you like her?”

Jaime had a hand tucked under his head, revealing the thick patch of golden hairs on his armpit. Brienne felt the leap in her heart, at seeing like this, relaxed, satisfied, thoughtful.

“This is no lie, Brienne. But I wasn’t into her.”

“But you dated,” she pointed out, softly rubbing against him as he removed his hand from her cheek to caress her back.

“She was a client who kept coming on to me, putting me in a position where I couldn’t refuse,” he said, hand slipping under the blanket to settle on her hip. He sounded annoyed. “I did try to move on from you, Brienne. Maybe if I wasn’t so in love with you I’d have at least fucked her. I couldn’t,” his hand returned to her cheek and looked at her. “I didn’t want to. You’re all I want. I never wanted Irma. Like I said, she was a client. Then there was you. We were fucking when I was dating her, and I admit it killed me that I didn’t know if we were just exes who fucked or more.”

She sat up, gathering the blankets around her. He sat up too, lounging against the pillows. “What’s really bothering you, Brienne?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, putting a hand on his knee and touching him. “It’s just that. . .I feel like. . .Jaime, we had to work really hard to have this weekend.”

“Yes. We did.”

“I just thought. . .I expected that since this is the second time for us we would know better. About making the time for each other.”

“You don’t think we are?”

“I don’t know if I do,” she said helplessly. “And then I had this fucking cold. I’m grateful that you took really good care of me, Jaime but it’s not what I wanted. I wanted you. Inside me. For three days.” She sniffed, feeling mucous drip. Blushing, she brushed the back of her hand across her nose. When she glanced back at Jaime, he was grinning.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Brienne. We have two more kids since we got back together. The company’s bigger. You’re now director. But I don’t think we don’t know any better.” He caressed her arm, running a finger down the firm musculature. “I do admit to being slightly disappointed about you getting sick, but you didn’t exactly ask for it, Brienne.”

 She took his hand, turning it to kiss the palm. “I’m feeling so much better, by the way.”

He smirked. “Decongestant, vapor rub and cock. The trifecta of curing my wife and getting her back in fine fucking form.”

“I just wish we didn’t have to work so hard to be like this,” she said, gesturing around them. “I mean, we bought this cabin for weekend getaways but we haven’t been here for months.”

“I know.” He said softly. His eyes burned as she lowered his hand to her breast. She quivered at his touch, her nipple peaking eagerly. She moaned softly as he pinched and pulled it gently.

“Am I a terrible person for wanting to be alone with my husband?” She gasped.

“No, because I believe I’m truly entitled to have my wife all to myself.”

“I don’t want to lose you again,” she whispered, moving back in his arms and holding him tightly. His chest was slick from the vapor rub, like hers. She kissed him deeply on the cheek. “I love you so much, Jaime. There’s no one else for me.”

She climbed on top of him, flinging away the blanket from her legs to straddle him. He grabbed her by the nape and kissed her hard on the mouth, tongue swooping inside before she could take another breath. She sucked his tongue, wanting all of him and his flavor to be swallowed inside and swim in her bloodstream.

As they kissed, she blushed and whispered about his toys, glancing at the handcuffs on the nightstand. He chuckled, kissing her on the throat as he murmured about turns. She smiled, reaching for them, moaning as his lips tugged at her nipple sharply. They rolled over, putting her on her back and him on top. Her gasps shifted to squeals as his hand lowered to her cunt, sweeping her labia open to push his long, firm middle finger inside. Her sharp cries were muffled by his hard, bruising kisses, his legs kept hers spread far apart to push more fingers inside her, thumb manipulating her clit. Her nails drew lines on his back, his arms, as she felt herself fly. 

She was sobbing his name, stretching her arms over her head when he kissed down her body, his mouth wet and warm as they captured her one nipple, then the next. Her body was still tingling from orgasm, every inch of her skin highly sensitized and wrapped in electric sparks. He sucked on her nipples hungrily, as if to draw milk, before his fingers seized the swollen tips roughly when he buried his tongue in her mouth.

She lost herself in his eyes, gave in to the sensation of his supple skin sliding against her, his sweat mixing with hers. She swallowed his spit through their kiss, begging for more. She licked the sweaty column of his throat, nibbled on his shoulder as he started pushing his cock inside her cunt. Two strokes in and she was wailing with abandon, feeling herself dissolve yet also most complete. He chuckled against her panting mouth, teasing her for her coming so fast but it was still the greatest show on earth.

The soreness in her cunt was still a warm conflagration when he flipped her on her stomach. Her throat raw from her lingering cold and cries, she could only gasp and whimper as his tongue fucked her in the pucker, wetting the resisting entrance. Sweat poured from her back as she heard him squirt lube on his hand. When his finger thrust between her ass cheeks, she let out a scream for _more_.

And _more_ came. Her sapphire eyes were wide as his cock pushed inside her ass. Jaime was _huge._ She whined in pleasure, loving how he threatened to split her open with each thrust. Her entire body was _protesting_ yet reveled in being taken so. _More, more, more._

“I missed you here,” she gasped. They hardly did this with the children at home because of their shouts. She hoped he didn’t only fuck her like this once.

He fucked her twice in the ass, panting against her back, grabbing her by the hair to shove his tongue in her mouth before resuming the mind-blowing, rough pace of his cock sliding in the tight, forbidden crevice. She was no longer cold, as sweat constantly exploded from her pores and wet her body, his. She was all of _want_ , and _need_. She lived for the rough, hot pain of his cock pounding her ass, shoving back against him and her eyes widening at the white-hot intensity. She screamed his name each time she was thrown into another orgasm, crying out hoarsely how much she loved him.

Night found them tangled around each other, her nose pressed against his throat, her fingers wrapped around his cock. She was bone-tired and sated, cocooned in the security of his love once again as she settled in his arms. 

“I love you,” Jaime told her, kissing her on the forehead and wrapping his arms around her. “Brienne, I’m yours.”

She smiled and snuggled closer. She truly was the luckiest person alive.

 

*******  
The world was still dark, and smelled of the crisp air of the imminent morning when Jaime was roused by the sharp rustle of sheets, the creak of the bed, then _Brienne,_ rough hair tickling his chest as her lips trailed down his stomach. Her breathing was still watery, but she no longer sounded as if near death.

The Stranger was death in blinding white and white flames, come for him as her mouth closed around his cock.

He rued the absence of light but when he tried to turn on lamp, discovered his wrists bound by handcuffs to the headboard. He chuckled and groaned at the same time, amused and pleased at how sneaky she had been.

In the dark, there was nothing to do but listen and feel. Her wet, sucking kisses, bold and possessive. The tickle of her hair brushing his thighs still streaked with semen. Her hands, coasting over his coarse pubic curls, cupping his balls, stroking the hard column of his cock as she devoured the head. His heartbeat echoed the rhythm of her gasps, he listened to her long, greedy slurps, growing harder and thrusting deeper in her mouth.

He grunted softly, spreading his legs wider as she pushed her head down on his cock. He could feel the flutter of her eyelashes. _“Brienne.”_

He gasped as her full lips slid up and down his cock, matched with the wet sounds of her kisses, the breath she sucked in before wrapping around him again. And kissing and slurping him harder than before.

“You want me dead, babe?” He drawled breathlessly, pawing for her, needing to touch her. He growled and struggled against the handcuffs yet was also pleased to just surrender through his cock.

“No,” she giggled. “But I have so much to make up to you. Nearly bit you off earlier when I sneezed, if you recall.”

“Gods. Then make it up to me as much as you want,” he whined, curling his legs as he felt first waves of orgasm. “I’m close.”

He whined when he felt his cock pop free from her lips. “Come closer,” she whispered before taking hold of him once again, resuming her feast.

A moan around his cock, a sure caress on the line connecting his cock to his balls, and he was unhinged, shouting her name and pumping into her face, shooting his load deep in her mouth. Harder he blew into her as she suckled him hungrily, her hand rubbing him furious to milk the last drops.

He was still floating in the sky when he felt the hard fall of her body over him. His breathing harshened at her warm, wet cunt pressing on his stomach as she leaned over to free him from the cuffs. Her lips brought the sensation back to his wrists, brushing down his arms until they were kissing.

He reached behind him to flick on the lamp and she squawked, throwing her hand up to protect her sleepy eyes from the glare. He squinted too, grabbing her close to continue kissing her.

“It’s not morning yet,” he murmured, feeling drunk and happy. His cock rubbed against her pubic hair.

“I can do it again when the sun’s up,” she whispered, throwing her leg over his hip. “I love you, Jaime.”

He looked at her. Despite the delight in her eyes, there was need too. She had been genuinely worried that they might make the same mistake.

“And that’s why I know we won’t take each other for granted again,” he told her, taking a bite of her full lip. “I don’t know if you remember but we hardly said ‘I love you,’ the first time we were married.”

“But we’ve always loved each other.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, kissing her on the mouth while his hand lowered to her cunt. Good. She was wet. “But we didn’t say it as much we do now. I never doubted that about us but it’s always nice to hear it.”

“It sure is. _Oh_ ,” she gasped, jerking sharply against him as his fingers plunged in her cunt. “ _Jaime._ Wait.”

“Are you sore?” He asked, slanting his mouth over her. He pulled his fingers out and she whined.

“No,” she protested. “I’m not. But I have to. . .I have to pee!”

“Oh.” He kissed her again and pulled away. She giggled and slipped out of bed. He turned on the lamp from her bedside, flooding the room with light. She shrieked and automatically covered her breasts and cunt. “Don’t cover yourself. Let me watch your ass as you walk away, babe.”

“You’re so outrageous,” she told him, shaking her head but dropping her hands. He grinned, liking the jiggle in her ass as she walked to the bathroom. She closed the door, and heard the squeak of a faucet turned on followed by the gush of water. He laughed.

When she emerged a minute later, the sun was rising and he was sitting up, mischief in his eyes. She tucked herself beside him, yawning.

“Sleepy, babe?”

She shook her head, her eyes soft. “No. Not really.”

“Good. I want to fuck you.”

She grinned. “Please do.”

He grinned back and fell on top of her, kissing her hungrily. Her minty flavor indicated she had brushed her teeth, and when his hand lowered, discovered her cunt was cool from a wash. Forget about exotic scents on a woman. He liked them simple and best on Brienne.

It was a little disappointing because her cunt smelled and tasted best after fucking. Sometimes, he would ask her to skip cleaning that area for the day, liking how sticky she got. The scent of fucking from her cunt made his head spin.

But this, her smelling so clean, was also a huge turn-on. He wanted to dirty her up, drown her cunt in semen, paint her freckled thighs with his cock.

He kissed her mouth until her lips were swollen, fucked her with his fingers until she trembled and shrieked. Fresh from a fuck, Brienne was always quick to come. He pushed his gleaming fingers in her mouth and she sucked, blushing and giving him eyes so blue. He pulled his fingers out and once again kissed her, drawing her arms high over her head. His cock, hard and pulsing, brushed against her sticky cunt, rubbed fast on her clitoris.

He had to focus hard on what was going to happen next because she was kissing him feverishly all over—his neck, his shoulder, his chin, his armpit. She didn’t notice when he pulled her arms toward the headboard. As he clicked the handcuffs shut around her wrists, he pushed his tongue back in her mouth.

It wasn’t until when she tried holding him, a moment later, when she realized what he’d just done.

“Oh gods,” she gasped, looking at her bound wrists then at him. She yanked and shook her head. Her cheeks were the color of apples and her eyes were dark from lust. “I don’t believe this.”

She licked her lips after speaking, worrying it with her teeth as she shyly raised her hips to rub against him. He groaned and kissed her firmly on the mouth.

“Are you going to use your toys on me?” She whispered, licking his lip as he pinched her nipple gently.

“Only if you talk dirty to me, wench,” he teased, making her laugh and blush.

“Oh, you.”

“Come on,” he coaxed her, dragging his teeth across her lower lip. He urged her legs apart as his hand slipped under the pillow. “Tell me what you want me to do, babe.”

“Fuck me.” She sighed as he pulled her nipple sharply. “Fuck me, Jaime.”

“Perhaps more graphically, babe?” He kissed her on the neck. “I’m never going to look at a power drill the same way again, that’s for sure.”

She giggled. “Drill me, Jaime.”

“Hmm. Are you sure?”

“Power drill me.” She spread her legs wider. _Gods_. How could he not love her? “Jaime, fuck me. Fuck me however you want. I’ll love it. I love however you fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me.”

“Your wish is my command, but we’ll have to improvise.” He said, pulling his hand out from the pillow. He smirked when she saw what he held. “I don’t believe you’ll mind this? You had so much fun with it earlier. I’m never going to forget that.”

_“Oh, Jaime---”_

Her moan swelled to a shriek when he pressed the vibrator on her cunt.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it was mentioned previously that Jaime had asked Brienne about Harvey (the idiot hockey player who got nailed by a puck on the throat in Begin Again), it made sense for her to ask him about Irma, though years after they got married again. For Brienne, the idea is she did lost Jaime for a time and miraculously, got him back. It was more important for her to move on than think about the loss.
> 
> This was an issue she never talked about, nor something Jaime sensed about her. It's nobody's fault although Brienne blames herself for putting them in a position where making the time for uninterrupted intimacy has become really hard. As much as this is a fantasy (I can definitely say I won't be THAT excited finding nipple clamps in my boyfriend's things), I felt I had to aim for some realism. Once you have children and when you have very successful but demanding careers, time for each other really suffers. 
> 
> ****  
> Sending a massive THANK YOU to the amazing catherinflowers for cheering me on, urging me to post this ("It needs to be posted!") and for not thinking me weird with my questions about kinky sex, tools, etc. (Well, maybe she does, haha, and is just lovely and very nice--because that's how she is!) I wanted to do this right for SeleneU and needed help. SeleneU is my rock star, after all! :-) 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. Time for Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lannisters go wild. 
> 
> Also sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a two-chapter update, everyone!

Brienne in the throes of ecstasy was _beautiful._ Sapphire eyes wide with disbelief and dark with pleasure, pink mouth open to let out one sexy scream after another. The muscles in her arms and wrists straining as she struggled against the cuffs, rattling the bedpost. Her flushed skin was covered in sweat, gleaming like smooth marble in the sun. Nipples stood stiff, getting redder at every rush of blood as her arousal approached insane heights.

Jaime bent and dragged one nipple hard in his mouth. She whined, twisting her body. As he turned his head to taste her other nipple, he lowered the vibrator from her clit towards her wet slit. The soft, wet sound of flesh parting made him groan as he pushed the device inside her.

_“Jaime!”_

The air was thick with the smell of her cunt, warm, wet, sweetly female. He sat up, pushing the vibrator in and out of her cunt. Her thighs were soaked and the spot under her hips was dark from her juices. He gazed at her cunt, at her thighs, intrigued by the clear, sticky threads between them.

“ _Jaime_. . .Jaime. . . _ooh. Shit._ Oh my _gods._ . .” She gasped, trembling violently as he pressed the buzzing vibrator on her clit again. Her legs thrashed, eager, desperate to close but he was right between them.

“More?” He asked, pulling the vibrator away to give her a reprieve. His voice was a little shaky.“Tell me what you want.”

“C-cock,” she whimpered, raising her hips, tempting him with her dripping cunt. His tongued flicked out hungrily. “Fuck me, gods. _Come on._ ”

“Later,” he said, just to mess with her. He grinned as she pouted, trying to turn away, no doubt intending to shove him down the bed and take his cock for herself. He looked forward to it but for now, it was so much fun watching her _go mad_ over the vibrator.

As she frowned and muttered that he was torturing her, he leaned down to take her mouth in a sweet, deep kiss. He felt her scowl melt as her lips yielded quickly, parting and letting his tongue inside. His cock, pressing against her cunt, discovered the very sticky patch of her clit. He was so hard he felt close to death. Feeling her so fucking wet nearly had him coming all over her.

Fucking Brienne once was enough to convince him he’d found his partner. Oh, there was her incredible sapphire eyes, intriguing him from the moment he showed up at her old apartment to do her bookshelves. Then he saw her nipples straining against her t-shirt, caught her fresh scent when she passed him. He had to have her, and her blushes told him she was thinking along the same lines.

He could not stop fucking her since then. Rare was a woman who enjoyed fucking as much as Brienne did, and generous too. He spent his last hours as a bachelor fucking her throat—because she wouldn’t let him go. Not that he wanted to sleep alone in bed, or waste the night sticking bills down the G-string of strange women. The photos from their first wedding showed them looking a little drunk, thanks to the fucking, but their happiness was genuine.

He raked his teeth down her sweaty neck, licking a freckle, then another, before closing his lips around a swollen nipple again. He cupped and played with her breasts, turning his head side to side to lick and mouth her nipples. “C-cock,” Brienne pleaded, swiveling her hips against him, her clit rubbing against his cock. She hissed. He groaned. The handcuffs clattered against the bedpost again. “Jaime. _Please._ Fuck me.”

Keeping his lips fused to her nipple, he blindly reached for the vibrator. Brienne’s moans rose over the soft buzz of the device as he turned it on and slipped it back in her cunt.

She jerked, nearly throwing him off, shrieking, _“Jaime!”_

“I love you, babe,” he growled, shifting to attack her mouth again. She squealed through their kiss, nearly choking him with the frantic pushes of her tongue. Her body jerked, thrust, she struggled through the cuffs again. He kissed her harder, shoving her hard, sweating body back on the mattress as they battled it out through her orgasm.

He held her as she surged through the last stages of her release, freeing her mouth so she may breathe, and he could feel the warmth of her gasps. He was tensed too, struggling to contain his need for relief so he may watch her eyes flare with the brightness of all sapphires and taste her soft, throaty mewls. Her body softened, her head slumping heavily on his arm, her legs collapsing. She continued to moan because the vibrator remained inside her. He eased it out, pleased to find it gleaming and so slippery. As she caught her breath, he unlocked the handcuffs, pressed kisses on her hands and wrists to coax sensation back into them. Her weak whispers of love caused his cock to harden even more, the ache nearly blinding him.

Gently, her turned her on her stomach, slipped a pillow under her to elevate her hips. Her sigh was wet and long as he climbed behind her, spreading her tired, sweaty legs.

He peeked at her cunt, breathing in her thick, musky scent before swiping his tongue up and down her slit for a taste, a quick feast. She groaned, clutching at the pillow under her cheek. He felt her shake, listened to her breathing quicken. On and on he fucked her with tongue, gathering her taste, devouring her sweet, wet cunt. When he felt her approach another orgasm, he rose on his knees, seized his cock. It was an angry, reddish column of flesh. He chuckled, for it looked like it was never going to forgive him for being deprived of Brienne’s cunt for so long.

He rammed it in.

_“Jaime.”_

He fucked her gently, sweating through it because his body screamed to take her fast, roughly, without mercy. He lowered himself on her slick back, the pace of his thrusting cock languid and driving her mad. She was sobbing, sniffling, chanting his name huskily as he sank again and again in her tight, dripping passage. Fuck. _How could something so wet be so fucking hot?_

“Gods, I should never let you out of bed,” he growled, yanking at her hair. She squealed as he sucked on her neck, fisting her sweaty locks to arch her higher. “I should fuck you until I’m dead, Brienne.”

She made a sound that seemed a squawk and a laugh. Another tug and he got her to turn a little, enough to push his tongue in her mouth.

He suddenly tore away from their kiss as he felt the sharp lurch from within him. Seeing white for a second, he cried out, shoving his cock deeply and brutally in her cunt, drawing a shriek from her. He closed his eyes, trembling as he spilled in her passage.

She sighed, slumping heavily on the bed. He kissed her and pulled out, fist his cock to squeeze the last drops of his semen on the pink pucker of her ass. She wiggled her hips.

As he fell beside her in the bed, she moaned, “You should fuck me like that again.”

He smiled wearily, glancing at her. Her back still faced him. “You like to live dangerously.”

“Hmm. Yes, I do.”

She turned around, sweaty, messy, flushed—not very attractive but making his blood rush and his heart race. He smiled happily as she snuggled against him, throwing her arm around his chest, slipping her leg between his thighs. She licked his neck. He pulled the blanket over them, hugged her close. She smelled of sex and sweat. _Fucking fantastic._

“It’s been so long since we’ve fucked like that,” she whispered, kissing him.

“Yeah.” He missed it. Being able to fuck without the worry of waking the kids, or what they might see. He kissed her on the forehead. “I love fucking you like that.”

“Of course, we might have to ice my cunt first given the battering it’s gone through for hours,” she whispered. He grinned, feeling her blush. “Which I really enjoyed.”

“I know, babe. I heard. Never forgetting that. Should be my new ringtone.”

She giggled. He laughed along with her, enjoying the way she was rubbing against him.

“Is your cold better?”

She sniffed. “Much. Thank you.”

The sun hung high outside their window, casting its soft light over the lake. Jaime continued to hold and caress her, keeping his eyes on the view. This was why he agreed to buy the cabin. The dark waters of the lake, when hit by the sun, reached a shade close to Brienne’s eyes. He turned his head to look at the real thing, a corner of his lip quirking at the dazed look in her eyes, her face soft from fucking.

He saw the rest of his life in her eyes. He was very lucky.

“I’m hungry,” she murmured. She raised her head a little to look at him in the eye. “But can we sleep for a while first? Some horny stud wouldn’t stop fucking me.”

“Yeah, let’s,” he muttered, urging her back on his shoulder. He closed his eyes. He was hungry but _drained._ They couldn’t exactly order pizza. “A wicked wench kept spreading her legs and offering her pussy and ass.”

“Must be torture for you.” She kissed him again. “I’m so sorry.”

He caressed her sleepily. “The worst. Wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Jaime?” Her hand skimmed his chest, right above his heart. “I love you.”

 

******

Brienne woke up sprawled on her stomach, and alone. Rubbing her eyes, she squinted at the sun, wincing as the glare from the handcuffs that bounced right into her retinas. She groaned, rolling away as she rubbed her eyes. She slipped her hand under the pillow and discovered the smooth, glassy surface of her phone.

She checked for the time. Half an hour before noon. Sitting up and rubbing her eyes, she squinted at the room. “Jaime?”

No answer. Frowning, she got up from the bed, and immediately felt the consequences of a long night spent in endless passion. Dark pink color swept from her forehead down to her breasts as she walked gingerly to the bathroom. She peed, cleaned her cunt, washed her face then brushed her teeth. She went back to the bedroom but it was still empty,

“Jaime?” She called again.

“Stay there, I’m coming right up,” he called out from downstairs.

What was he up to now? She wondered, stretching her arms over her head. The sockets in her shoulders gave a satisfying pop. Relaxed, she crawled back into bed, folding her knees to her chest. Her eyes stared expectantly at the door.

Fucking Jaime was synonymous to a chocolate buffet. Pure indulgence. Sensual decadence. But rather than guilt about losing control she felt lit with happiness.

Suddenly, an idea hit her. She almost forgot! She hopped off the bed and quickly went to open her overnight bag. There. Pink with excitement, she slipped on the ultra-sheer blue negligee. It wasn’t her usual style—she preferred sleeping in the nude too—but Jaime loved her in blue. The baby-doll style meant it hugged at her breasts before flaring out in a short, floaty skirt. She examined the matching G-string. It was more delicate than tissue.

She put it on, but just long enough for her scent to mark it before hooking it around the doorknob. Jaime would prefer her bare.

She was running her fingers through her hair to make it into a sexier tousle when the door opened. Gasping, she turned, lost her balance and fell on her back, legs spread and way up. Jaime entered, twirling the G-string around his finger, a wicked smile on his face.

Her cheeks aflame, she pushed herself up on her elbows, catching Jaime’s eyes drift between her legs in approval. She stared at him too, but her expression disbelieving.

Jaime was wearing his tool belt.

 _Only_ his tool belt.

“Well,” he said conversationally. “Hello there.”

“By the Seven, Jaime, did you go out there _naked_?” She exclaimed, her gaze fixated on his cock. That thing was as destructive as it was beautiful, she thought, feeling her cunt ache. She was ready to fuck again, she realized, squirming.

His cock was long and thick even at rest, with plump, very warm balls. She had not enjoyed giving blow jobs until Jaime.

 “Of course, I did,” he said, turning around to flex his butt at her. She laughed, both amused and turned on at the sight of those cheeks. It was cutely pale compared to the rest of his sun-gold skin. “I’m a forty-five-year-old man with the ass of a sixteen-year-old quarterback, babe.”

She agreed. Those cheeks could kiss the sky!

He turned back to look at her. He looked a little sleepy but the gleam in his eyes told her rest was not among his priorities right now. She drank him in, purring softly at the faint, purple marks decorating his neck and chest where she had kissed him. Small, grayish bruises were scattered around his waist and thighs too, from her hard grips when she mouthed his cock.

She started to sit up, putting her legs together but he shook his head. Another wave of her blushes swept through her. Her cunt was still tender, but it was ready for another hard pounding. She could _hear_ the slow drip of her juices out of her slit.

“You have the most gorgeous pussy, babe,” he murmured, holding her stare before taking a deep whiff of the G-string. “It smells like an innocent angel’s too. Calls for a hard, dirty drilling, wouldn’t you say?”

She nodded, unable to mask her excitement. He winked and put the G-string on his nightstand. She moved to make room, but he remained on his feet, looking at her from head to toe.

“You look fantastic, Brienne.”

“You look delicious,” she said honestly, crooking a finger. “Come here.”

He laughed and crossed his arms. He was clearly playing a game. She shook her head, her eyes once again dropping to his cock and tool belt. “What’s with the tool belt?”

“Just an idea I had because of your talk about getting drilled and jackhammered,” he said. “I figured you could use an intense hammering from your favorite carpenter.”

She smiled as he finally joined her, stretching over her, taking her face in his big hands as his tool belt and knees swept her legs further apart. Falling on her back, she opened her mouth, welcoming the firm thrust of his warm tongue. She squirmed, adjusting to better wrap her legs around his waist. Through the wet lashes of tongue and her moans, she heard the metallic rattle of the screwdrivers, nails and other instruments.

Her hand flattened on his chest, finding tight muscles and sweat-damp fur. Her nose was thick with the scent of his Jaime’s sweat and the lingering note of fucking from his pores. He was _intoxicating_.

“Are you sore?” He whispered while dragging the straps of her negligee down her arms. She groaned as he bared her breasts, crying out when he dragged a nipple harshly between his teeth and sucked. Gods. His mouth was so warmth, so wonderful. Every pull of her nipple in his mouth sharpened the ache in her cunt. She was _soaked_.

She gripped his hard shoulders, opened her mouth to lick the sweat filming the skin. Salt. Man. _Jaime._ “Y-yes,” she panted, her arm sliding around his waist, toward his ass. She spanked one of those taut cheeks, making him grunt. “It’s Seven Hells not having you inside me. Will you fuck me, please?”

She knew she sounded tearful. Having Jaime inside her just made everything so fucking right. Every minute he wasn’t was physically painful. Desperate, she suddenly shoved him away. Jaime’s startled expression was only for a moment until she climbed on top of him.

“Take this fucking thing off,” he hissed, yanking at her negligee. “Give me skin, babe.”

She nodded, straddling him, pulling at the itsy-bitsy garment. Jaime made a rough, impatient noise and yanked it off her, flinging it away. Then he was cupping her face again and they were kissing hungrily, harshly. Her nails raked down his chest, over the bulge of his tool belt, her hand slipping under his ass then his thigh. She relished the shudder coursing through him, pleased that he too was as mad for her as she was for him. His cock thrust against her thigh.

Her cunt was weeping from emptiness, but she took her time, dragging her mouth from his kiss to lick down his chest. Tender, playful bites of his nipples got him groaning and pulling at her hair. She kissed and licked down his body, brushing her lips on the bruises she had left, tonguing the firm slabs of muscles. He smelled of sex, and her, _everywhere._

His cock was pointing straight up. From the head hung the fat, white bead of his pre-cum. She stared longingly as she kissed down his hairy thigh, nudging one of the bags dangling from his tool belt out of the way. She nibbled at his knee.

“Fuck, that tickles,” Jaime huffed out, trying not to jerk his legs lest he kick her in the face. Brienne kissed him firmly at the back of knee then turned to the same to the other. She kissed the instep of his left foot. As she kissed her way back up to his leg, his thigh, his rough, pubic curls grazing her cheek, she raised her eyes toward him. He was watching her.

She saw heat in his eyes, but also the tenderness, affection. She raised her head, smoothing away the curls from his cock. “Jaime, I don’t think I’ve told you this,” she said, wrapping her fingers around him gently. “But I’ve loved you since I first saw you. I’ve loved you and wanted you so much since.”

It was the truth. She couldn’t look at him right in the eye because he was so fucking attractive but something had shifted in her from the moment she opened the door of her old apartment. She had been gobsmacked, feeling herself scatter. Never had she responded to anyone like that.

As she stroked him tenderly, watching his eyes fall close and his throat strain from his grunts, she continued, “I was going crazy. I was terrified and exhilarated at the same time. You looked at me, really looked at me. And when you kissed me. . .”

She sighed and bent, wrapping her lips around the swollen cockhead and sucking.

“I _had_ to kiss you,” he ground out, reaching for her. “I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone so much in my life. I saw your eyes and I _knew_ , Brienne. I had to have you. I wanted you with everything I had and more. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted so much to fuck you.” 

She gasped as he pulled her mouth away from his cock, fisting her hair as he pulled her up to mash his tongue to hers. She blushed as their tongues met. Surely, he could taste himself. Throwing her arms around him, she pulled him, rolling to her side so he was above her.

He caught one of her legs, draped it over his shoulder, then the other. Realizing she was in for ride so hot it was going to be a scorcher, she grabbed the bars of the headboard and tilted her hips up. “Good girl,” Jaime rasped against her lips before plunging inside her.

She wailed as his cock pounded in her dripping slit without any gentle preamble. His lips warmed her throat, licking at the column vibrating through her cries. He flattened his entire body on her, pinning her with his weight and strength as his cock plundered her cunt. She gasped, groaned, scratched at his arms and back he dug deeper in her with every thrust back inside. Then his mouth clamped over hers, muffling her screams as his cock split her wet flesh again and again. The tools spilled from the bags, raining on the bed, clattering to the floor and rolling in all directions.

Jaime’s tongue was in her mouth when she screamed her release, shuddering violently against him. He held her down, sweat pouring from the sides of his face as he fucked her twice, three more times, before ripping his mouth away to groan in her ear. She gasped, clinging to him as semen poured into the greedy squeeze of her cunt.

When she could see straight again, Jaime was still above her, watching her. She gave him a tired but very satisfied smile. He smiled back and bent, once again kissing her.

She will never get enough.

 

****  
It was late afternoon when the hunger for food could no longer be ignored. Brienne covered Jaime’s ass with quick, passionate kisses before bounding out of bed. The room smelled thickly of fucking and sweat so she opened the window. “Eggs and bacon, my love?” She asked as she pulled on a robe.

“Hmm. And the strongest coffee,” he groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Does fucking you qualify an intense workout?” He rubbed the back of his thigh. “Fuck, I think I pulled a hamstring.”

“I _know_ I won’t be sitting right for a few days,” she said, making him smile.

He grinned smugly turning on his side and putting a fist under his jaw. His gaze told her he’d burn the robe off her if he could. “You did ask me to fuck you in the ass again, babe.”

She blushed and he laughed. “I’m cooking. Do you want us to eat in the kitchen or here?”

“Hell, kitchen. My ass is also numb from being in bed for more than a day.” He said, getting up and stretching. “Of course, having your tongue in it woke up a lot of sensations.”

“Jaime!” She exclaimed, shaking her head. She wasn’t embarrassed to do something so positively dirty and sexy to him, but it was different hearing about it. He laughed again, and she left the room.

Though weak from hunger and fucking, she whipped up pancakes, eggs and bacon, brewed coffee. Surrounded by the delicious aroma of foods made her stomach growl even louder. Jaime joined her, first to shove his tongue in her mouth as she cooked the pancakes in bacon grease, and then to set the table. She indulged in the sight of his ass in his low-slung jeans. Indeed, it was a crime to have that incredible asswork concealed. It was beautiful and he had worked so hard!

After they were done setting up for breakfast, she laughed as he suddenly embraced her from behind, pawing at her breasts under the robe. He sat down, pulled her to sit on his lap.

“I really am hungry,” she pointed out breathlessly. She put a hand on his stomach. “So are you.”

“Yeah, but we eat best this way,” he told her, pulling her robe open and cupping her breasts possessively. “Remember the second time we got married? We had breakfast like this.”

She kissed him sweetly on the mouth. “There’s no forgetting that.”

They ate straight from the platter of food. He had her hold onto one end of the bacon with her teeth while he proceeded to chew through the other. Their kiss was greasy and salty, with slurps of tongue. She squeaked and held tightly as he squeezed maple syrup on kiss-swollen nipple, making her pant and squirm as he sucked hard.

Despite their play, they polished off everything—even the coffee. Their bellies full and satisfied, and coffee raced in their veins. All it took was a shared heated look before Jaime put Brienne on the table and spread her legs.

It was a hard, bruising fuck for both. And sticky too, as they poured the syrup on each other and licked.

Brienne was panting at Jaime’s side, her lips and chin gleaming with his semen and syrup, when he sighed that they really had to get cleaned up lest ants ruined what time they still had for each other. She laughed, showing him her arm and legs tracked with the sticky substance. His chest hair was in sticky clumps too.

In the bath, Brienne leaned against the tub, Jaime resting on her chest. He kept caressing her knees sticking out of the water. His feet kept turning the knobs and off.

She kissed him behind the ear. He smelled pretty good all clean and soapy too. He hummed in pleasure.

“We go back tomorrow,” he said, putting his head on her chest.

She sighed. “I know.”

She hugged him tighter.        

“I miss the children,” he said after a moment. “But I’m kind of dreading how it will be when we go back. No loud fucking and getting to fuck you in the kitchen, for starters.”

“Yeah,” she admitted, feeling her body stir in response. “We should make time for more weekends like this. Or time with each other. Commit harder to it.”

“Easier said than done.”

“It really is.” She kissed him on the nape. “Jaime?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m thinking of asking Margaery to be co-director with me.”

She felt him stiffen against her. She leaned back as he turned to look at her. His expression curious, he asked, “Co-director?”

“I’m sorry for not talking to you first but it just hit me. I don’t want to quit. I love my job. What I don’t love is the business side of things stealing what time we have for each other and the family. I know that can’t go on.” Her broad shoulders sank. “I’d rather lose my job than lose you.”

“Hey, hey,” he said, kissing her on the cheek then on the lips. “Come on, you’re not going to lose your job.”

“I love our time here, Jaime,” she said, kissing him back. “But we can’t always go away for the weekend. We will really have to make the time at home with the children. I will never forget how it was to be without you. I can’t go through it again.”

“You won’t. You’re never losing me, understand?” He tipped her chin up and kissed her fully on the lips. She sighed and held him.

“I hope they agree,” she said. “I’d hate to lose my job but it’s nothing to what might happen to us if it takes over our lives. The reason I went into private practice is to have more time for us.”

“They’ll have to agree. You’re too valuable and it’s too much of a load on top of your doctoring duties,” Jaime assured her. He caressed her cheek. “Since you’ve brought it up. . .I’ve been thinking of promoting a few people who can take care of the company when I’m not around.”

“You are?” She knew how much Jaime enjoyed control. Sometimes he micro-managed. “Are you sure?”

“You’re not the only one who’s worried about time for us, babe. Like you I love my job. Worked too hard to be where I am. But if it demands too much of me I’m willing to let it go rather than you or the children. You’re my life, Brienne.”

“Oh, Jaime. You’re everything to me,” she whispered, kissing him frantically. _“I love you so much.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In How We Met, Part One of Love is A Hurricane, Jaime was a carpenter. Between their engagement until their divorce, he got his contractor's license and began his company. When they got married for the second time, his company was slowly becoming successful. 
> 
> *****  
> I would just like to say A MASSIVE THANK YOU to catherineflowers for always making the time to read, comment and make suggestions to improve my work. She's just incredible and always generous with her time, talent and friendship. Without her, I don't think this would be in any way halfway decent, and I really want to make this special for SeleneU.
> 
> I wish SeleneU a belated happy birthday again. She's my first and closest friend in the fandom, and I will always be in admiration of her. She's fucking cool, funny, honest and always so supportive. She's also generous with her time and urges me to do better, not just with fanfic. I think it says a lot about a person who genuinely looks out for you and SeleneU is exactly that.


	6. EPILOGUE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're at the end!

_**Two weeks later** _

 

The weekend. Jaime was thankful. Two days without having to worry about work. And on top of that, this weekend, Aeron was away at camp and Maelyn was at a sleepover. It was very easy to arrange a playdate for Alyse later. Once she was out, he and Brienne would have the whole house to themselves.

His cock twitched.

It was practically a miracle, that he could still get so hard just thinking about Brienne. They were back to fucking almost daily, and three times day, when they could. He was pleased to have had a vasectomy years ago, or they’d have enough children for a football team. He sighed in his sleep, dreaming about his wife’s beautiful sapphire eyes, her full-lipped, wide mouth. It was heaven to kiss, heaven to fuck. Her cunt that won’t quit. Always wet and ready.

He’d have to fuck her in the cunt today because he fucked her twice in the ass last night. Brienne truly enjoyed a dirty drilling now and then but he didn’t want her hurt or sore any more than she should be. The Seven knew he was inside her cunt as soon as the kids were in bed, and didn’t pull out until close to sunrise. Still, she was unbelievably tight. Her ass was an unyielding passage too.

He was dreaming of taking her by the fireplace in the living room, fucking her cunt with his tongue to make her scream, when he tried to turn to the side. A metallic clang and scrape reached his ears, and he realized that his arms were restrained. Frowning, he opened his eyes and stared at his wrists.

_Handcuffs._

“Brienne?”

“Just a second,” she called out from the bathroom. He listened to the whoosh of water then the door was opening. He squinted at her. Bedraggled, her eyes half-closed, her mouth swollen from kisses and cock. There were purple kiss marks all over her throat, around her breasts, and the inside of her thighs were flushed a deep, rosy pink. She was taking great care to walk. She would, he thought, grinning. He had not been easy with her last night.

“What time is it?” He asked. “And why am I handcuffed?”

“Just about seven-thirty in the morning,” she replied, joining him in bed. He heard her open the drawer but when she was straddling him, he couldn’t see what she held. He had to focus on his train of thought as her breasts swung and she parted her thighs, giving him a glimpse of her swollen, pink flesh and her clitoris. “Maelyn called to ask if she could stay for breakfast at Cassia Baelish’s. I told her okay.”

He pulled experimentally at the handcuffs. “What about this?”

“Oh. Handcuffs.” She widened her eyes.

He chuckled. “What are you up to, babe?”

The other doctors in the Growing Strong Wellness Center agreed to Brienne’s request for a co-director. Margaery was turning out to be a very efficient and reliable partner. Because they now shared duties, Brienne could make time for family and Jaime a lot easier. Jaime himself would be announcing next week who would be his right-hand man.

“Well. . .” she said, leaning down to kiss him and stroke his chest in gentle circles. “I thought since we had some time to ourselves, we could play.”

She nibbled on his lip as she spoke. His cock thrust between them. It approved. “Hmm. And what are we going to play?”

Brienne smirked and reached under her leg. Jaime chuckled as she showed him the nipple clamps with the fake sapphire gemstones. A silver chain linked the clamps. The gemstones dangled from it. “It’s a pity we didn’t get to use it.”

“I bought that for you,” he murmured as she licked his lips and rolled her hips. _Seven._ She was wet!

“I know, and it’s sweet. But you had way too much fun with my nipples last night, Jaime. So this morning, I’ll be the one to enjoy yours.” She pressed thumb and forefinger on a clamp to open it. Her eyes sparkled before bending to kiss him again. “And you’ll love how much I enjoy them.”

Damn. He should be nervous but he wasn’t. He was fucking _excited._  

“I’d love to see that,” he whispered through their kiss.

Brienne purred and sat back, getting ready. As she leaned down to imprison his nipple carefully between the clamp, his eyes suddenly widened then slammed shut.

_“Ah—ah—hachoo!”_

When he opened his eyes, Brienne was wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. She didn’t look disgusted but worried. “Oh no, Jaime.”

“No, no, no. I’m not fucking sick!” He protested. “Put the clamps on me and I’ll give you the best fuck of your life. _Now, Brienne._ ”

“Jaime—”

“I’m not—hachoo!”

  _Seven Hells this wasn’t happening again!_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, another fanfic in the bag!
> 
> I thank SeleneU for her friendship, and the reason why I'm still writing fanfic, despite not having a lot of time for it these days. She's been pressing me to seek other avenues of publishing and I honestly miss seeing my actual name on stories. It helps that I have a cheerleader in her, and for me, all I need is one to keep plugging. So, thank you, sweetie! 
> 
> I also thank catherineflowers for being my smut consultant and goddess in one. I don't think I'd have gone all the way (smut-wise) without her encouragement. Always lovely that there's someone else besides me and SeleneU who enjoy smut! Although I'm incredibly shallow and would prefer mindless smut, haha! Catherineflowers, you're just amazing!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who made the time to read and comment. Yeah. . .I haven't been writing much because I honestly can't make the time. Writing is hard work, and while fanfic should be a breeze (ideally), it's hard to focus when you're trying to make sense of required, boring readings from old men with long-ass beards. I'll do my best to write some more because I really miss it. That's why I'm humbled there are people who still read my work and leave kudos. That's so touching and I appreciate it in ways you'll never know. 
> 
> Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Catherineflowers has been a gift as a writer and as a friend. 
> 
> It's been a while since I've written (school! hospital! life!). It's been great just reading fanfics but I wanted to write one for SeleneU. Feeling that I've become rusty, I turned to Catherineflowers and she was more than happy to help. Thank you so much!
> 
> For SeleneU, some friend I am giving this to you a week late! Please, please forgive me. 
> 
> Also, please remember there's someone who believes you're a bad-ass rock star in ways you wouldn't believe, making you one of the people I'm so lucky to have met, in a way, and most of all, to call a friend. I hold you in admiration, sweetie. I love you, and will always on your team. 
> 
> I hope this humble gift is at least okay. :-)
> 
> Belated happy birthday, sweetie.


End file.
